02 Vampires don't Sparkle
by Bunnyapocalypse96
Summary: In the midst of dealing with the fallout from the events on New Earth, the Doctor takes Rose to Transylvania for a good, old-fashioned vampire hunt. Things go awry, however, when Rose suddenly develops a crush on a certain Count...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Salutations readers! Here we go… book two. Because the series is quite lengthy (and with **_**quite **_**I really mean **_**super**_** lengthy), you'll notice that I have started numbering the stories that are part of the series. This is just to help you keep track later on. Furthermore, if you are joining in the crowd of readers for the first time, welcome! Go read **_**Shadow **_**and come back to this story later. If you are a lazy reader, however (no judgement), you can go ahead and read this story as a stand-alone, too. In this case, just be warned that a lot of references in the story are going to go over your head!**

**Alright, rambling done. Remember to review and all that.**

**Happy reading! :)**

…

The Doctor stuck his head out from under the console and frowned. The console room was quiet. Too quiet.

There was a distinct lack of—_Rose-ness._

Frown deepening, the Time Lord realised that it had been a good five hours since he'd last seen his companion. And it was in the middle of the afternoon. She couldn't possibly still be sleeping.

A small part of the Doctor found it a bit concerning that he so yearned for her company. How her absence, even if it was only for a few hours, could cause such a deep pit to form in his stomach.

Of course, this thought lead naturally to the next; the memory of a time when he'd thought that she was gone _permanently._

That hadn't just been a pit, though. Much as he hated to think about it, he could still remember the feeling vividly: it had been a full-blown black hole. An all-consuming entity, eating away at his very being.

But he'd fixed it. He had. To date, which was now hitting the three months mark after the hospital, there still hadn't been any reaper sightings. Apparently, the universe had compensated completely around the fact that Rose Tyler was alive.

The Doctor had many a time wondered why that was. In his internal speculation, he'd come up with just about a thousand reasons why this fact shouldn't bother him. Should be unsurprising, really.

For one, Rose had been travelling with him for such a long time now that there were versions of her spread out through almost the whole of time and space. Her timeline, like his, wasn't exactly linear. People like them could get away with taking liberties with established events in their timelines, couldn't they? He himself had played around with his own timeline in the past, and he was fine.

It could even be that the Bad Wolf had stepped in to aid him in this.

Maybe, just maybe, when Rose had looked into the heart of the TARDIS to save him, she'd changed herself more than either of them could have ever dreamed. Scattering her name across time and space—perhaps it had been so much more than that. Perhaps she had scattered her very being across the universe that day. Preserved herself…

The Doctor shook his head to clear it of this fanciful thought. Surely, that would be too much to hope for.

Then, of course, there was a darker possibility for the universe compensating around Rose. Even as he thought about it now, the Doctor tried desperately to push the doubt away from the forefront of his mind.

It didn't let up, though, and made itself known loudly and clearly:

Maybe the universe had other plans for her. Maybe there was something worse on the horizon.

An approaching storm…

The thought prompted him to get up from his position on the floor and to go searching for her. He had an idea where she'd be, as she usually spent most of her time on the TARDIS either with him in the console room or in the library.

When he walked into the large space, he couldn't help but smile when he spotted Rose curled up on an armchair, happily reading away at the book in her lap. Her face was relaxed as her eyes moved with the words on the page, a small smile hinting at her lips. She seemed content.

He was content, too. That was another thing that niggled at his mind from time to time. Just watching her in these little moments, doing mundane things, put him completely at ease. Slowed the constant stream of thoughts and worries running through his head. When he saw her like this, he knew that everything was fine. She was there and she was alright.

He wanted to leave the moment undisturbed for as long as possible, and so he made his way over to her as quietly as he could. He smiled softly and leaned over the back of her armchair.

"Whatcha doing?"

Rose nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard him speak so closely to her ear. She slammed the book in her lap shut and hastily shuffled it from his view. Then she glared at him as he came around to face her, seating himself in the armchair opposite to hers with a big old grin on his face.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" she implored, putting a hand to her chest.

The Doctor's grin widened. "Yeah well, you had your head so deep in that book, you'd have hardly noticed if I came past with a leaf-blower."

Rose smiled, but there was a steady blush creeping into her cheeks. "Did not," she countered.

"What were you reading, anyway?"

Rose cast her eyes to the side. "Nothing much," she told him as the blush on her face intensified.

"Oh?" the Doctor said sceptically. He looked at the book that she had now successfully wedged between her leg and one of the armrests of the chair, "What is it, then?"

"I said it's nothing," she muttered, wishing he'd just drop it.

He didn't drop it. In fact, the Doctor then got up and, with a curious expression on his face, moved closer to her. Rose's breath hitched a little at the back of her throat when he placed a hand on her thigh and moved her leg out of the way to get a better view of the book.

He arched an eyebrow and held the book up to see. "_Twilight_?" he asked, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Rose rolled her eyes at him. She could see that he was trying very hard not to laugh at her. He was going to leave that bit for _after_ the teasing. "Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about," she said defensively.

"And?" he asked, his eyes still glinting playfully, "Is it living up to the hype?"

"I think it's romantic," she said with a little shrug. She didn't voice the fact that she found herself empathising with Bella, at least on some level. Forbidden love and mortality and all that…

"It's a bit—angsty though, isn't it? All that staring and whatnot."

Rose wanted to give a scoff at this. The Doctor was one to talk. Sometimes the Time Lord could be a great big ball of broody, frowny angst.

"I mean, it's all well and good during the daytime," the Doctor continued on his tangent, "But then suddenly he's sneaking into her room at night to watch her _sleep_? That's borderline voyeurism, that is."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, ready to get a little bit of her own back. "You can talk," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Just last week I caught you staring at me in my bed in the dead of night!"

It was the Time Lord's turn to blush. He reached a hand up and tugged at his ear, as was his habit. "That was different," he muttered, shifting his eyes away from hers, "I was just—checking up on you."

"Oh, yeah?" Rose laughed at his embarrassed expression, "Just checking to see if I was still breathing?"

She expected him to laugh. Expected him to narrow his eyes at her and reply with some joke at her expense. Maybe even expected him to pout and glare as he sometimes did. What she didn't expect him to do was what he actually did, which was recoil as though he had received a blow. For just a second, a look of utter pain manifested on his face.

And through that look, Rose knew that the answer to her question was yes.

That was exactly what he'd been doing.

Then he hid the expression behind a very well-rehearsed grin. "So which team are you, then?" he asked her lightly.

"Huh?" she was still too preoccupied by the shock of seeing his reaction to her previous words.

"Team Edward or Team Jacob?"

Rose let whatever he was feeling go—for the time being. She'd bring it up later again; he could be assured of that fact.

"Hold on," she grinned at him mischievously, "Doctor, how do you know so much about these books?" She gave a gasp and put up her hands in feigned mortification, "Don't tell me you've actually _read _them?!"

The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, coughing awkwardly. "Well, you know, I just—I just wanted to see what it was all about, like yourself. Really, it was just scientific curiosity."

"_Scientific curiosity_," Rose echoed incredulously before bursting into a fit of giggles.

When she saw the Doctor scowling down at her, it just elevated the laughing. "You're a _Twihard_!" she gasped as she felt moisture starting to fill her eyes from all the laughing.

"I am _not _a _Twihard," _he said sulkily.

"And I'm assuming you're taking Jacob's side of things," she continued teasing him, wiping the tears from her eyes, "Seeing as you _absolutely do not_ approve of borderline voyeurism."

"Actually, I'm Team Bella-should-stop-hanging-around-blokes-who-want-to eat-her," he retorted, "Personally, I'd think that the words 'I fancy you, but I also want to kill you' is a bit of a turn-off."

"Sounds like you've just got no sense for romance," Rose said, getting up and playfully nudging his shoulder.

"I do _so _have a sense for romance!" he scoffed, "I'm plenty romantic!"

"Could've fooled me…" Rose muttered.

"And besides," the Doctor continued, apparently not having heard her, "I don't see how being with either a Lupine Wavelength Heamovariform or a Plasmavore could be terribly pleasant. I happen to know for a fact that at least one of those species are terrible kissers." He gave a small shudder.

She raised her eyebrows. "What, you're telling me that vampires are real now, too?"

"Well, not in the traditional sense of the word," he started technically, "But there are some species out there that can be seen as vampires, I suppose. Species that prey on others and feed on their life force—"

Like Living Shadows, he thought to himself.

Rose gave him one of those brilliant smiles that could make him drop everything at a moment's notice and do whatever she asked of him. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him along behind her excitedly.

"Well, come on then!"

"Where are we going?" the Doctor asked smilingly, finding her enthusiasm infectious.

She only answered once they reached the console room. She released his hand as they ran up the ramp to the console in the centre of the room and turned to look at him. "We're going to go find a vampire!" she stretched her eyes wide and waggled her eyebrows.

"And where do we plan on finding this vampire?" he asked her, waggling his eyebrows in equal measure.

Rose cocked her head to the side and looked at him as though he'd just dribbled on his shirt. "Why, Transylvania of course!" she told him, as though this destination was meant to be obvious.

He rolled his eyes. "There aren't really any vampires in Transylvania, Rose."

She fixed him with a tongue-twixt-teeth smile. "Wanna bet?"

He looked at her for a moment, wondering whether he should indulge her whim. Of course, the way her hazel eyes were looking at him; wide and filled with anticipation, waiting for him to take her hand and lead them to another adventure—

Well, how could he say no?

"Ten quid?" he asked her.

Her smile widened. "Ten quid it is."

Their eyes still on each other, he flipped a switch that sent the TARDIS spiralling through the vortex. As always, the ship shook violently as she travelled, but to the two travellers on board, this all served as part of the excitement of journeying to a strange, new place and time.

The trip quite literally ended with a bang as the TARDIS found solid ground. The Doctor and Rose were sent sprawling in a tangle on the floor as they made impact.

"Right!" the Doctor said cheerily, getting to his feet and helping Rose to hers as well, "Let's get this goose chase over with, shall we? I could use a spare quid or ten."

Rose poked him good-naturedly. "Oi, don't think I'm going to go down without a fight," she grinned.

"You never do," he told her, returning the grin. In the back of his mind, he tried not to let the implications of his reply carry too much meaning.

They stepped out into a cool night breeze.

They had landed in a village, it seemed. It would have been a charming one, too, with pleasant cobblestone streets in different shades of red bricks and small townhouses that lined the streets in the same style. It would have been beautiful, in fact, had there not been an ominous, grey mist rolling all around them and a blood red moon above them in the sky in full swing.

The overall picture on this night was not that of beauty, but that of complete malevolence.

Rose found herself moving a little closer to the Doctor's side.

"It's a bit—quieter than I'd expected it would be," she murmured.

She was right. Except for the two of them, the place seemed deserted. The only thing to be heard in the street was silence.

It was deafening.

The Doctor could feel that Rose was more than a little unnerved by the scene as she pressed more tightly still into his side, her hand grasping at his.

She wasn't alone, either. He couldn't explain it, but it felt almost as though the atmosphere was _meant_ to make them feel uneasy. Whatever the reason, small alerts were going off in his mind; mauve for danger.

When he spoke to Rose, however, his voice was light. "See? What did I say? Absolutely no v—"

And then his voice was drowned out by the sound of a monumental hoard of footsteps.

"There might not be any vampires about," Rose breathed as they watched a large source of light approaching them, "But I reckon we just found the angry mob looking for them."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Hi there! No, your eyes do not deceive you; this is me posting an update all of three days after publishing the previous chapter. A little overeager? Perhaps. All in all, you could probably say that I'm suffering from a bout of getting-the-ball-rolling syndrome. Call it a trade-off for not having updated my other stories in a while…**

**Hope you like it! :)**

…

The Doctor moved a protective arm in front of Rose and manoeuvred her slightly behind him as more and more people pooled into the cobblestone street. They were a very stereotypical mob, the Doctor mused; complete with pitchforks, torches and no imagination.

The group of people were stopped short when they saw the two waiting for them at the bottom of the street. Quite obviously, this wasn't a sight any of them had expected.

For a moment, both groups just stared at each other in a stand-offish silence; the Doctor and Rose to one side and the village people to the other.

Then, a burly male stepped forward from the crowd, handing his torch to the woman at his side. "What are you doing in our town at this hour?" he asked directly, evidently not the kind of man for pleasantries.

The Doctor looked out over the people. There were about a hundred of them, their ages and genders varying vastly. It seemed that the entire town had come together to form this pack of condemnation.

Their cause must be worthy one—or at least it was in their eyes.

"I'm the Doctor and this is Rose," he said, and Rose took a step out from behind him, "We're travellers."

The man nodded curtly, not extending any form of greeting or introduction towards them. Instead, he turned his back on them and began talking to a man who looked to be a clergyman.

Rose exchanged an asking glance with the Doctor, but neither of them really had an answer as to what was going on.

After a heated conversation, the clergyman stepped forward. He moved to face Rose, causing the Doctor to stiffen slightly. The man lifted what looked to be a small crucifix to her face and held it closely there for a few seconds.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked incredulously, looking at the crucifix where it almost touched the tip of her nose.

"Be quiet, child," the man simply said.

After another moment, he took the crucifix down with a small nod of his head. Then, he lifted the object in his other hand; a tiny vial filled with clear liquid. He muttered some unintelligible words, and then proceeded to splash half of the contents of the vial into her face.

"Hey!" she cried indignantly. She wiped the water out of her eyes and took an enraged step forward, ready to most likely punch the man in the face.

"Rose," the Doctor warned quietly, pulling her back to his side by her wrist. They were walking on eggshells around these people as it was already; Rose losing her temper with one of them was not exactly a move that would be in their favour at the moment.

"She is mortal," the man announced to the crowd.

The entire party seemed to relax when they heard this. Pitchforks and torches were lowered and more than a few sighs of relief were released. Some hugs were even exchanged.

The burly man from before stepped forward once again. "I apologise for that," he told them, "It is a security measure that must be taken with all newcomers to our town, I'm afraid."

"These people are scared," the Doctor observed, looking at the fear that so clearly overtook all of the townspeople's faces, "Why?"

A grave look passed over the man's face. "It is the demon," he said quietly, anguish filling his voice. The sound of it almost prompted Rose to reach out and comfort the man, but she knew better.

"It has been tormenting us for far too long," he said, shifting his gaze to something over their shoulders, "It has forced us to lead our lives in constant fear for ourselves and our—" he swallowed thickly, "our loved ones."

The Doctor and Rose turned to see what the man was gazing at, but all they saw in that direction was a view obscured by fog.

Maybe it was just her overactive imagination, but Rose could have sworn that the fog hadn't been that thick a moment ago…

"We can help," Rose said as she turned back to the man, "What's your name?"

"I am Felix Cezar," he introduced himself, "I am the head of this town."

"So tell me this, Felix Cezar," the Doctor said, turning back. He'd been contemplating the fog-obstructed view too, an uneasiness rising in his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that something in the air was—building. "Why is it that you felt the need to wave crucifixes and holy water around in my friend's face when we arrived and not mine?"

"It takes the women," the clergyman from before answered, stepping to Felix's side, "Never the men. When the demon appears in the night, it only ever preys on females. It—transforms them." He glanced guiltily at Felix as he said his last sentence and Rose noticed that the man paled at the mention of the words.

"And you are?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow at the man who had previously been harassing Rose.

"My name is Father Dorin," he said with a sage smile, "I am in charge of blessing the holy items used in combat against the beast. I do it in the hopes that the struggle between man and the devil will one day meet its end."

"Noble," the Doctor nodded, though his tone held a slight hint of scepticism.

"And this demon, it took someone you cared about?" Rose addressed Felix, who seemed to be quickly losing his grip on his emotions. She stepped forward slightly, but once again the Doctor held her back with a small shake of his head. He wasn't quite sure if he trusted these people to be peaceful just yet—not with their vast array of weaponry still held at the ready, at least.

"My daughter, Ana," Felix said, blinking rapidly, "She was only sixteen years old."

The Doctor nodded, not needing a moment's notice to come to his resolve. "We can help," he told the emotional man firmly, "Tell us everything you know about this demon."

Unexpectedly, the Doctor's prompt caused the crowd at Felix and Father Dorin's back to stir afresh. Before his disbelieving eyes, the people scattered; grabbing their families and running into their houses as though they were being pursued. In only a few seconds, the only people standing outside were Felix, Father Dorin, the Doctor and Rose.

"What did you say?" Rose asked with raised eyebrows.

Felix was gaping, his mouth opening and closing and his feet slowly carrying him backwards. The Doctor could practically hear the man's contemplations of escape.

Father Dorin remained calm. "The Townspeople are forbidden to speak of it," he explained to them, "Even the mere utterance of its name draws it here."

"Like a telepathic link," the Doctor murmured to himself thoughtfully. He turned to Rose and something mischievous glinted in his eye, "How do you catch a fish?"

Her gaze only turned confused for a second at his random question before comprehension flickered across her features.

She grinned. "Bait."


	3. Chapter 3

To say that he hated using Rose in this manner was nothing short of an understatement.

She had been willing—all too willing, really—to act as baiting device when the Doctor had told her about his scheme of luring the demon into town moments ago.

Of course, Rose being female and—well—a pretty fine specimen of femininity at that, she was their best bet of finding the creature and figuring out what exactly it was (because, whatever Rose thought, he was _not_ letting up that it was a vampire until he saw it with his own eyes).

But, seeing her standing there in the middle of the cobblestone street while the Doctor and the two men at his side hid in an alleyway; having Rose be as exposed and vulnerable as she was…

The sight was slowly killing him.

"How long does she have to keep standing there?" he voiced his worries impatiently.

Rose caught his gaze from across the street and threw him a sweet, slightly exhilarated smile. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but the Doctor found that it only elevated his need to have her safely at his side again. He just couldn't bear to think of any other scenario playing out in his mind.

"These fanciful tales of demons seem a bit rubbish to me," she said loudly into the empty street.

The Doctor almost smiled at her bad attempt at nonchalance. Almost, because his smile hitched upon seeing the sudden thickening of the fog around her and Rose's reactive step backwards.

She was scared.

Faster than a flash, Rose was shrouded in fog. It was as though all the fog had abruptly packed up around her, obscuring her completely from view.

The Doctor only remained rooted to the spot a second longer before he bounded towards her.

Using Rose as bait was all well and good while he could keep an eye on her, but having to risk the bait actually getting caught just didn't sit well with him. Not where Rose was concerned.

"Rose?" he called as he ran into the cloud of fog. He flailed around, trying establish some form of contact with her and growing steadily more panicked as he realised that he couldn't seem to, "Rose?!"

Why had he even thought of this plan in the first place?

"Doctor!" came a muffled cry from not too far away.

The Doctor's hearts leapt. "Rose!" he started moving in the direction of the sound, hands stretched out in front of him to find her, "Rose, come towards me! Follow the sound of my voice!"

There was no reply.

"Rose?"

He moved forward another few steps.

"Rose?"

All his voice was met with was silence. His hands grasped at air. And then the fog cloud fell, revealing no sign of his blonde companion. No Rose.

Just the cold, dark figure in her place.

"Where is she?!" the Doctor shouted, moving in on the figure and not caring how imposing it was. It would never be anywhere near as imposing as the wrath of an Oncoming Storm. "What have you done to her?!"

The figure lowered the hood on the dark cloak it donned, revealing the face of a young man. He was handsome; around his mid-twenties to early thirties by the looks of things, with pitch black hair, matching eyes and skin as pale as marble.

A vampire.

"Where's Rose?" the Doctor repeated, not shouting this time but sounding equally, if not more, menacing.

"Oh, my dear Count!" Father Dorin exclaimed, rushing forward with Felix in tow. All their fear apparently forgotten, both men took the vampire's hand in front of the Doctor's disbelieving eyes.

"You know him?" the Doctor asked them incredulously.

"He is the nobleman who takes up residence just outside of town," Felix nodded, sparing the Count a half-hearted smile, "He has proved to be a valuable member of our community."

"He graciously aids us in our financial needs for battling the demon," Father Dorin added with a proud nod.

The Doctor just gaped at the two men with raised eyebrows.

"Are you serious?" he asked them after a moment. When they didn't seem to comprehend what he meant the Doctor barked out an incredulous laugh. "He's the demon!" he exclaimed, feeling his irritation at their incompetence in the face of the situation rise, "Here he is; right in front of you!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Father Dorin scoffed.

"He just appeared out of nowhere!" the Doctor said, now properly infuriated, "He took Rose right in front of our eyes!"

"My dear sir, I have no idea where you could possibly be getting such notions from," the pale man spoke for the first time, "I assure you, I was merely out for my nightly stroll."

The Doctor rounded on him. "Oh?" his eyes bored into the vampire's, "So you reckon my friend just disappeared into thin air of her own accord?"

"Your personal matters are no concern of mine," the Count shrugged, "Perhaps your friend was simply in need of some fresh air, much like I was prior to my walk. Either way, be assured that I will keep out a wary eye for her," he gave a small nod to Felix and Father Dorin over the Doctor's shoulder, "I bid you good night, gentlemen."

Before the other two men could return the gesture, the Doctor had caught hold of the man's arm and had spun him around to face him again. "No, no, no, you're not going anywhere," he told the Count, "Not until you tell me where Rose is."

"Doctor!" Father Dorin exclaimed, completely scandalised in the face of the strange man's behaviour.

The Count, however, seemed unfazed by the Doctor's aggression. "Where do you think she is?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't think I need to answer that question," he replied dangerously, "Seeing as you already know."

"Well, _I _think," the Count's tone mirrored that of the Doctor's as he took a step closer to the Time Lord, "That you needn't worry."

The Doctor drew himself up to his full height. "And why do you say that?" he asked, meeting the vampire's gaze intently. Felix and Father Dorin shuffled from side to side nervously at the tension the men were orchestrating between the two of them.

A small smile formed at one corner of the Count's mouth at his defiance. "Because, Doctor, your Rose is perfectly safe."

Suddenly, his voice had taken on a distinctly lulling quality.

"Don't you remember? She is in the library, safely tucked away in the—TARDIS. She is reading a book in her favourite armchair. She never came here with you."

The Doctor was overwhelmed with the image in his mind; Rose was sitting in the library in her favourite armchair, that small, contented smile on her face. She was just about to finish the first instalment of that silly _Twilight_ series…

"No," he gasped aloud, stepping backwards with his hands to his temples. He briefly closed his eyes to get a grip on himself, before fixing the Count with a shocked stare, "How did you do that?"

The Count was wearing a slightly wounded expression. "You are immune to suggestion, I see," he said quietly, "You do not share the susceptibility of your friends. Why is that?"

The Doctor abruptly realised that he was alone. Felix and Father Dorin were nowhere to be seen.

"Where did the other two go?"

"I have sent them to their homes," he replied airily. He narrowed his eyes, "But you, _you_ appear not to be swayed in the slightest. And the images in your mind—you call yourself _Time Lord_. What does that mean?"

"Get out of my head," the Doctor said darkly, "You have no right to form telepathic links with people without their permission. Least of all to _control_ their thoughts. I should report you to the Shadow Proclamation."

"I do not know of these things you speak of," he brushed off the foreign words. Then, tilting his head as though he was surveying some type of artwork, "But you do intrigue me, Time Lord. You seem to have abilities of a fantastical nature; far beyond those of the company you surround yourself with."

He gave a wolfish smile, "And what pretty company that is."

"Where is she?"

The Count's smile stayed in place. "Oh, and here was I thinking that I had just found myself a new beauty to occupy my lonely abode," his smile widened as he saw the Doctor's jaw clench tightly at his comment, "I do suspect now, however, that I have stumbled upon so much more than that."

The Doctor didn't know what to make of his cryptic words.

"Who exactly are you?" he resolved to ask.

"My name," the vampire flashed a set of pearly white teeth, "Is Count Dracula."


	4. Chapter 4

Rose awoke with a jolt, a strangled cry of "Doctor!" escaping her lips.

For just a second, she was a tad embarrassed by this; had she really just called his name after having a nightmare? Blimey, she'd be getting an earful when he came running and found her completely safe in her bed.

But then memory set in and she instantly grew aware of her whereabouts, which were distinctly not in her room on the TARDIS.

She was lying in a massive four-poster, tangled up in a mess of heavy linens and fluffy pillows that seemed to be a little excessive in number for just the one person.

Casting her eyes about the room, Rose realised that this excessiveness had also carried over into the tastes of whoever had decorated the place. It was probably meant to have some sort of elegant yet gothic feel to it, but because of the heavy draperies and tapestries that seemed to adorn every inch of the room, notwithstanding the very large chandelier that hung above her head and cast odd shadows in the nooks and crannies of the space, the overall sense she got from the room was just an evident tackiness.

She was still surveying her new place of residence when a figure stepped out from the shadows, nearly giving Rose a heart-attack in the process.

"I'm sorry," the young girl apologised, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Rose nodded in acknowledgement, her hand still clutching at the spot where her heart pounded against her chest.

The girl stepped forward and timidly perched herself at the end of the bed. "Do you need anything?" she asked Rose.

"Yeah," Rose answered, regaining her composure, "I need some information, if you don't mind. Where exactly am I?"

The girl looked at her for a moment before seemingly deciding to side-step the request for information completely. "I—I could get you some breakfast if you want. It's nearly light out and—"

"I already ate, thanks," Rose cut her off adamantly. She wouldn't be brushed off that easily, "See, I think it'd be rude of me to take breakfast at someone's house without even knowing who my hosts are. Especially seeing as they were eager enough to meet me that they felt the need to _kidnap _me first!"

The girl, slightly taken aback by the other woman's forwardness, cast a nervous glance towards the door before speaking again. Rose idly wondered if there were any ears listening from the outside.

"My master has requested your presence in the drawing room upon his return. He has supplied you with appropriate dress for the meeting," the girl looked down at her clothing doubtfully, and Rose suspected that her t-shirt, denim skirt and trainers weren't exactly high-fashion for the time period the Doctor had landed them in.

The Doctor…

"If you're not going to tell me anything, then you should probably know that I've not travelled here alone," Rose started dangerously, "I came here with someone, and when he finds out that you lot have gone and taken me captive—believe me—you'll be sorry."

But even as the threat escaped her lips, she could hear that it sounded horribly empty. Even if the Doctor did notice that she'd been kidnapped, which hopefully he had by now, neither of them had any clue where she was.

The girl looked at her with some sympathy and Rose gave a resigned sigh.

In for a penny, she thought to herself wryly.

She took the opportunity to study her captor more carefully. The girl was young, no older than eighteen, with pretty auburn hair, green eyes and a complexion that verged on unhealthily pale. As Rose's eyes skimmed over her face, she caught sight of two small, scarlet pinpricks just beneath the girl's jaw-line.

"What's that?" Rose inquired, scooting closer to the girl and eyeing the markings suspiciously. If she didn't know any better, she'd say they were—

"I don't know what you mean," the girl replied curtly, swiftly getting up off the bed before Rose could move any closer. She moved towards the door, eyeing Rose with a strange expression set on her face from across the room. "You'd best get dressed," she informed her, "My master has just arrived."

With those final words she exited, closing the door neatly behind her. Rose watched the spot where the girl had stood for another minute or so, wondering whether it was wise to head out after her and probe her for more questions.

Then she shook her head. Maybe the key to finding out where she was actually lay in meeting this master of the house that seemingly wanted to make her acquaintance so badly. She took in the heavy fabric of the deep crimson dress that hung over the door of a wardrobe a few paces away and heaved another sigh.

That dress better not be as uncomfortable as it looks…

…

The Doctor eyed his posh surroundings with a hint of disdain. Even though he had technically been born into the Gallifreyan upper-crust himself, he'd never really held nobility in very high regard. For one, their interior decorating skills were terrible. Unbelievably so.

The great hall he stood in held two sets of staircases that led up to the East and West wings of the castle. The hall was also peppered with a thorough variety of statues, tapestries and paintings; each item more expensive-looking and over-the-top than the last. Perhaps the most extravagant of the lot was the massive, intricately carved organ that stood in a far corner of the room.

"You've really nailed it, you know," the Doctor remarked conversationally to the Count who stood at his back. They hadn't spoken two words since setting off for the castle.

"Once again, I find that I have no idea what you are referring to, Doctor," Dracula said rather impatiently.

The Doctor turned to him with a frown etched on his face. "This whole _Dracula_ thing. You've got the castle, the mind control, even the organ," he nodded towards the instrument, "Really, you've done a brilliant job with all of it. Might've even gotten away with it, I'd say. But then, stupid you, you go and make someone like me angry, ruining the entire setup in the process!"

Dracula shook his head at the strange man's words. "Are you implying that I am being deceitful in some way?"

"Oh, _come on_!" the Time Lord burst out as another bout of frustration ran through him, "It's over. There's no use hiding from it anymore. I mean, Dracula isn't even a real person! He's a fictional character based on Vlad the Impaler, for god's sake!"

The Count waved a dismissive hand at the Doctor. "I have no time for such absurd words," he stated curtly, heading upstairs, "I have an appointment to keep, after all."

"Where do you think you're going?" the Doctor called after him. Then, his ire continuing to rise, "You still haven't told me where my friend is!"

The vampire threw a wicked grin over his shoulder at the man at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Oh, she will be joining us shortly."

…

Rose sat awkwardly on the plush couch in the drawing room.

For just about the thousandth time, she adjusted the skirts on her dress underneath her to get into a better sitting position. True to form, the dress was just as uncomfortable as it had initially looked. Especially so since the girl had later returned and secured her corset tightly enough to crack a rib.

No amount of looking slim constituted this level of difficulty breathing.

She could hear voices nearing the room. The sound set her heart aflutter in anticipation and she felt her curiosity pique. Rose was truly interested in seeing exactly who had taken her.

Looking at the evidence she'd seen so far— the creepy fog, the castle, the girl with the strange markings on her neck— she was quickly coming to the conclusion that there was a healthy sum of ten quid in her future.

That is to say, if she ever made it back to the Doctor in one piece.

The door to the drawing room opened and in stepped a very handsome, pale young man. And behind him—

"Doctor!" Rose jumped to her feet and bounded towards him despite the heavy garment blocking her way. The closing of the last distance between them was slightly marred when Rose finally tripped over the hem of her dress, but to her delight the fall landed her securely in the Doctor's arms.

He held her in their embrace for just a little longer than he usually did before pulling back.

He'd been doing that a lot of late.

"How are you?" he asked her with a slightly worried grin, eyes running her over and lingering slightly on her very defined torso.

"Fine," she assured him, "Confused, to tell you the truth. People haven't exactly been very helpful in clearing things up about my kidnapping 'round here."

At this the Doctor threw an accusatory look towards the other man in the room. "Yeah, that was him," he told her, his eyes flashing, "took you right there in front of me without so much as a wink."

Rose looked at the man, too. As he met her gaze with a charming smile, she found herself admiring what nice eyes he had.

So deep and thoughtful…

"I apologise for the abruptness of our encounter," he said, offering her a small, remorseful bowing of his head, "I realise that because of it we have not had a chance to properly meet," at this he moved forward and took her hand gently in his, bringing it up to his lips and brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles. He never broke eye contact. "What an atrocious way to treat a creature as uniquely exquisite as yourself. My name is Count Dracula."

The Doctor's glare affirmed itself on his face in an instance. "Yes. Well. That's enough of that, then," he started manoeuvring himself between the two of them, the Count's intent gaze making him want to grab Rose and run for the hills.

To his astonishment, however, Rose stood fast against the Doctor's attempts to move her away from the threat and, more importantly, to extricate her hand from his grasp. Instead, she stared into his eyes just as intently and, with a light smile, replied: "Rose."

"Rose?" the Doctor asked concernedly, sizing the situation up with a growing sense of dismay.

It seemed that he was being ignored.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful subject," Dracula murmured as he retained both his grasp on her hand and his intent gaze on her face. He started inching towards her, slowly closing the distance between them. "How I would love to keep such beauty in my life forever."

"You would?" Rose replied, her voice coming out as hardly more than a rough breath.

The Doctor had no choice but to intervene. He stepped neatly between the two, grabbing the hand of Rose's that Dracula held and using it to pull her behind him rather unceremoniously. Then he fixed the vampire with a look that could floor an army.

"Stop it," he snapped.

"Doctor!" Rose cried indignantly, trying to break free from his grip that had now moved to tightly hold her arm— and in doing so, her body— in place at his back.

"I don't approve of telepathic links without consent at the best of times, but if you think you were on thin ice with me before…"

The Count straightened from the slightly hunched-forward position he had been speaking to Rose in, coming up to eye-level with the Doctor. Rose absently noted that the two men were roughly of the same height.

For just a fraction of a second, the Doctor caught a flash of hostility in Dracula's eyes. The look reminded him of that of an animal who had been robbed of its prey. But the hostility was quickly replaced with a glint of amusement.

"The Time Lord and his little, human girl," Dracula murmured thoughtfully. Instead of addressing the Doctor, the Count looked at the blonde head that was straining to see past the shoulder blocking her view. "Tell me Rose, has he always been this possessive of you?"

"He has his moments," Rose answered flatly, and the Doctor could feel the glare that she was shooting at his back. He silently clenched the fist at his side at Dracula's manipulative strategies. He was having a go at pushing the Doctor's buttons and he was certainly making leeway.

"Well, fair game to him, I too would be possessive of one as lovely as yourself," the Count threw another charming grin Rose's way, but not before his eyes flicked towards the Doctor contemptuously.

Then, too abrupt to be genuine, the vampire heaved an almighty sigh. "But, alas, I tire of this day and I feel that it is time to retire to my chambers," he nodded towards the pair of them, "Chambers have been prepared for you too, of course. Ana will show you the way."

At the mention of the name, both the Doctor and Rose's heads whipped up to see the girl who Rose had previously met enter the room.

"_Oh,_" Rose breathed. Seeing the Doctor's asking glance, she explained, "I met her when I first woke up. Should've known it was her from the start."

As Ana ushered them to their chambers, the Doctor fell into step beside Rose. "There's something a little—odd about her, don't you think?" he said, quietly enough for just her to hear. This specific topic of discussion seemed safe enough to potentially smooth over his previous blunder with her.

"I thought so, too," Rose agreed, "I noticed right off the back how pale she was. Paler than people usually are. But, Doctor," she leaned in more closely, "There was something else I saw, on her neck—"

"Your chambers, Doctor," Ana interrupted.

The Doctor and Rose looked up in surprise to find themselves standing in front of a nondescript door. Rose also noticed that they hadn't travelled nearly as far as she had when she'd walked from her chambers to the drawing room a few hours ago.

Ana gave a nod at the Doctor and started ushering Rose to her chambers, as well.

"Hold on," the Doctor called them back with a frown, "Where's Rose staying?"

"Male guests stay in the West wing," Ana replied slowly, "And female guests in the East wing."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up. "You mean to tell me that Rose and I will be staying in completely separate wings of the castle?"He wasn't comfortable at all with this idea. Not with Count-compulsive-flirt roaming the halls. And so, he made a logical decision. "Couldn't she just bunk with me?"

This idea seemed to affect all senses of propriety for Ana. "Certainly not!" she said indignantly.

Rose could see that the Doctor was worried about her. The sight warmed her heart. She took a step towards him and pulled him into a close hug. "I'll be alright," she murmured into his shoulder. She pulled back a little, still keeping her hands on his shoulders, "I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

The Doctor looked into her eyes for a long moment. By now, Rose had gotten used to the underlying fear his gaze held every time he looked at her like this, and she was almost certain that she'd also determined the reason behind it:

The Doctor was counting down the days until he lost her. He knew that any day could be her last.

Finally, he sighed. "Yeah," he answered, moving his hands from her waist to her hands and giving them a squeeze, "Yes, I'll see you bright and early."

Rose gave him a dazzling smile and released his hands before allowing herself to be ushered away by Ana.

"She'll be fine," he muttered to himself as he watched her leave.

…

When Rose arrived at her chambers, it was to find the Count leaning leisurely against her door in the long hallway. Her body's automatic response to seeing him was to tense, preparing for attack. But as she neared and she caught sight of those lovely eyes of his, all her apprehensions melted away.

"Ah, Rose," he smiled, straightening when he spotted her.

"Fancy meeting you here," she grinned.

"Yes, quite," he moved closer to her, "I was wondering if I might have a word," he moved even closer, his voice becoming low and husky, "In private."

Rose felt her pulse quicken as his dark gaze fixed on her. His close proximity was causing her to go all flustered, for some reason.

"S—sure," she stammered.

Her eyes flicked towards the door leading to her chambers and, seemingly of their own accord, her next words escaped her lips:

"Do you want to come in?"


	5. Chapter 5

Thoughts of Rose and the Count plagued the Doctor's mind all through the time he spent in his chambers. When light started peeking through the space between the heavy draperies in his room three hours later, he was all too eager to set off in search of his companion.

He noted wryly that it was just past 06:30.

He could already hear the telling off Rose was going to give him for waking her so early. Among all the brilliant and wonderful things about her that he'd come to discover in the time they had spent together, this was probably one of her most prominent qualities: Rose Tyler was not a morning person.

Thinking on that with a little smile, the Doctor moved forward to grab the heavy iron of the door-handle and exit the room. Just as he was about two feet away, however, the door seemed to open of its own accord.

Ana gave a small start when she found the Time Lord standing so closely to her instead of in his bed. "Oh! Excuse me, Doctor, I didn't realise you were already up," the Doctor noticed that the young girl was taking in his fully-dressed appearance and knew that she was wondering if he had slept at all.

The answer to that question, of course, was no. Time Lords didn't need to sleep. Not when their companions were in danger of falling victim to an evil vampire's flirtations, at least.

"Um," Ana cleared her throat, "My master has requested that you be present for breakfast in the dining hall at 07:00."

The Doctor looked at the pale girl and felt a bout of sympathy for her. Perhaps the way to get his mind off worrying about Rose (who was completely fine, he reassured himself again) was by getting back to the task at hand: Namely getting Ana and all the other girls that the Count had managed to take back to their families.

"Why are you so scared of him, Ana?" he asked her softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her to the edge of the bed behind him. He sat her down there, sitting beside her and looking into her eyes intently, "What has he done to you?"

He could see that the girl was just about to burst into tears, but instead of replying she simply shook her head. She kept her eyes firmly trained on a spot on the floor in front of her, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Ana," he pressed, "He can't hurt you. Not while I'm here. Tell me what he did and I'll put a stop to it. I promise."

"The Count is good to us," she murmured, and the Doctor knew that these words most definitely weren't her own, "He cares for us. We have no one else in life."

The Doctor could feel his jaw clenching at how completely the Count had managed to dominate Ana's thoughts. What made him even more furious was the fact that she apparently wasn't the only one.

If Dracula tried something like this with Rose…

"Ana, look at me," the Doctor told her firmly. He waited and her eyes eventually lifted to meet his. They were swimming in tears.

"We are alone," she choked out.

"No," he insisted fiercely, grabbing her by the hands, "No, Ana, listen to me. You are _not _alone. He's made you believe that you are, but it's just a lie. You have a family, Ana. Your father is worried sick about you."

Ana shook her head, refusing to believe a word he told her. "No," she insisted, "I have no family. I have no father. Just the Count. The Count provides."

The sick reverence with which she spoke of Dracula caused the Doctor's resolve to strengthen.

"Yes, you do," he countered. He let go of the girl's hands and placed his fingertips on her temples, "Look, I'll show you."

But before he closed his eyes and focused in on her mind, something in his peripheral vision caused him to drop his hands and reach in his jacket pocket for his glasses, placing them on his nose.

"Hold on," he murmured.

Rose had said last night about something on her neck…

Realising where his gaze was now centred, Ana gave a gasp and instantly jumped away from the Doctor's side. Without so much as another peep, the girl all but ran for retreat from the room.

The Doctor didn't stop her. He'd already seen what he had to.

He needed to find Rose.

…

Rose felt groggy when she woke up for the second time that day.

This time, at least, she knew where she was.

She reckoned that she couldn't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep, seeing as her escapades of the previous evening had only ended well into the early morning hours.

Still, she realised as she sat up in her plush bed with a frown, she'd gotten by on less sleep in the past. Far less. Even when having run on adrenaline the entire day and only getting in about two hours of sleep afterwards, she'd never felt quite _this _exhausted.

She felt absolutely drained.

She tried to think back on the events of the evening, attempting to remember what actions on her part could have possibly resulted in tiring her so much.

She'd come here with—someone. Who was it again?

She mentally slapped herself. It was the Doctor, obviously.

They'd been talking about something in the library. It had been some book or film, and afterwards they'd ended up landing the TARDIS in the centre of town. They'd met the townspeople and then Felix, the village head, had told them about his missing daughter.

Someone— no, not _someone_. It was the Doctor!—had suggested that they try to lure the demon that had kidnapped Felix's daughter (Ana, she seemed to recall) into town to get a better look at it. Only, when she'd been acting as bait, it had taken her.

And then she'd met _him_. Count Dracula. The dark, handsome nobleman with those absolutely _gorgeous_ eyes that stared straight into your soul. She could have looked into those eyes forever. She was sure that if he'd asked her to, she would.

Hold on.

That wasn't right.

No, she'd already promised her forever to someone (_The Doctor! _Her mind screamed) else. She couldn't stay with Count Dracula. She wouldn't.

Not while _he _still needed her.

Yes, that was it!

Abruptly, the fogginess in her head cleared and she felt a great wave of affection roll through her as images of spiky hair, pin-striped suits and leather jackets filled her mind's eye. Along with these images, the rest of the evening's events also fell into place; the Doctor's jealousy at Dracula's attentiveness towards her, his consternation at them having to stay in separate wings of the castle, his concern for her well-being so far away from him—

All but one memory.

What had happened after Ana had ushered her to her room? A small part of her remembered something along the lines of running into the Count on the way, but how long had they talked? What had they talked about?

What had happened to her?

And then she spotted something on the far side of the room. A ray of sunlight reflected off a mirror mounted on the wall. She shielded her eyes slightly against the stark light shining in her eyes, but started towards the mirror all the same.

She felt dizzy when she stood up. It was like a bad case of vertigo. It made her worry about what exactly had happened to her in those forgotten moments of the previous evening all the more.

When she first caught sight of her reflection, she gasped.

She was paler than usual. She might have chalked it up to being a result of her coming down with something akin to a cold if she didn't know any better. But that wasn't the reason for her horror.

There. On her neck. Just over her carotid artery.

Two small puncture wounds.

She spun around at the speed of light, spotting a high-necked, deep blue dress hanging over the door to the wardrobe on her right. She assumed that this would be her attire for the day. She also didn't miss the fact that the neckline of the dress would conceal the markings on her neck quite nicely.

Well, she thought adamantly as she got dressed, that definitely wasn't going to stop her from showing the Doctor. If she was one of many (which she most certainly was), she and the Doctor needed to stop the injustice being done to these girls as soon as possible.

With some difficulty, she finished lacing up the back of her dress (thankfully not as tightly as Ana had done) and headed for the door. She had barely taken two steps down the hall when she suddenly very nearly collided with a distraught-looking Doctor.

"Rose!" he exclaimed when he saw her. Relief became evident on his face and he grinned at her, "You look nice."

She felt herself returning the grin automatically. "For a human, you mean?"

His smile widened. "Well, obviously."

She giggled at this, but the laughter quickly died away on her tongue as she remembered the seriousness of the situation.

Detecting the sobering of her expression, the Doctor's smile vanished. "What's wrong?" he asked her, fearing her answer, "What happened?"

"I need to show you something."

The Doctor frowned. He lifted a hand and touched her cheek. "You look pale," his brow furrowed further and he hoped that she couldn't hear the sudden increasing of his heartbeats, "Are you coming down with something?"

"No, I—" Rose lifted her hand to pull away the material around her neck.

It was best to just show him.

"Rose?"

Her hand had promptly frozen mid-action.

The concern on the Doctor's face became all the more evident the longer she stood still. After about a minute of agony, he took her slightly elevated hand in his, thumb moving in comforting circles over the back of her hand, "You alright?"

She focused her gaze back on him with a little jolt.

"What were we talking about?" she asked him dreamily.

The Doctor searched her eyes for a moment. "You were just about to show me something," he said slowly.

Her brows lifted. "I was?" she asked confusedly.

Rose couldn't fathom the darkness that then filled the Time Lord's eyes. Instantly, she could see that he had gone into full Oncoming Storm-mode.

But why?

"You were," he affirmed before pulling her down the hall after him at a brisk walk.

"Where are we going now?" she called after him, trying to keep up with his steadily increasing pace.

"Breakfast," he answered darkly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Hey all! Lo and behold, exam season is FINALLY coming to a close! You know what that means…come Wednesday you're going to be hit with an obscene amount of updates :D Just a formal apology to all the writers I Beta for (special shout-out to **_**luckbringer**_** and **_**Isolime-SPN!). **_**I'm going to be leaving some very lengthy and (hopefully) helpful PM's concerning your stories soon!**

**Please review and tell me what you think of this chapter! This is the point in the story when the s**t really starts hitting the fan…**

**Enjoy! :)**

…

"Reverse it," were his first words when he entered the dining hall.

Count Dracula raised a bemused eyebrow from his position at the head of the dining table in the darkened room. He took a sip of his tea as he watched the Doctor haul Rose in after him, moving her to stand in the centre of the room like some sort of definitive piece of evidence.

"Once again, Time Lord, I must inquire—"

"No, no, no, no," the Doctor gave a laugh that only served to emphasise his overt anger, "I'm not having that. Not now. You've crossed a line that by no means can be uncrossed, Dracula."

"Doctor, what are you on about?" Rose once again asked exasperatedly, casting an apologetic glance towards the Count.

The Doctor ignored her completely, focusing his glare solely on the seated gentleman in front of him. "Reverse it. _Now._"

The Count took another sip of his tea, paying the fuming alien no mind. He sat back leisurely in his seat and surveyed the Time Lord. "Tell me what I must reverse and I shall try to do so," he said serenely. The Doctor could hear the inherent challenge in his words, though.

"Let's see, hmm," he pretended to think sarcastically for just a moment, "Oh yes, that's right. _You've brainwashed Rose!_"

"Brainwashed?" Rose scoffed. She stepped in front of him and, in doing so, blocked off the death-glare he was shooting at the Count.

Seeing her, his gaze softened ever so slightly. "What happened to you after you went to your room last night, Rose?" he asked her, already knowing what her answer would be.

She opened her mouth to reply, but abruptly closed it again with a frown.

At this the Doctor simply nodded. "You don't remember, do you?" he sent a look the Count's way that sent a small shiver even up Rose's spine, "That's because of him. He did something to you last night and then he tampered with your memories of the event," his eyes flashed, "My guess is he didn't just make you forget about having a nice cup of tea with him."

Rose's eyes widened at the revelation.

He was right. She couldn't remember anything after having spoken to the Doctor the previous evening. And this morning, she'd found something, hadn't she? Something that she'd wanted to show someo— _the Doctor _(Blimey, why did she keep doing that?).

Something important…

Her mind was getting foggier as she tried to remember details that were just out of her mind's reach. Her head ached with the effort it took to concentrate, but she pushed through.

There was something on her neck.

She reached up, hastily trying to indulge the stray thought before it slipped away. But as soon as her fingers touched the material at the neckline of her dress, her mind suddenly drew a blank.

What was she doing?

The Doctor was being silly. Nothing had happened last night between her and the Count. If she didn't know any better, she'd attribute his atrocious behaviour towards Dracula as an act of jealousy. Hell, there was no reason to the contrary for her not to.

He'd always been so _possessive _of her. Always throwing a toddler-tantrum any time a bloke showed a remote interest in her, getting all pouty when she wasn't paying enough attention to him—He'd even deferred poor Mickey to another universe eventually; getting rid of the competition in the most permanent way he could.

Maybe that had been his plan all along…

Oh, he was such a hypocrite!

So what, he could have all the Reinettes and the Sarah-Janes he wanted, but she, _she _was only allowed to have eyes for him?

_The Count would never do that to her._

Whoa—she blinked—where had _that _thought come from?

The Doctor was surveying Rose carefully, feeling his concern grow the longer she stayed frozen on the spot. He knew that she was currently waging a war inside her mind, her own thoughts pitted against those the Count had inserted to restrain her, but he could do absolutely nothing in the way of helping her. Her mind was fragile at the moment; if he tried to interfere in her head with his own psychic presence, it may just be too much for her to handle. He wasn't going to risk it.

Rose lowered her hand and seemed to return to the present. She fixed the Doctor with a glare, and he knew with fearful certainty that the Count had overpowered her.

"Stop making such a fuss," she snapped at him, "This is just you being jealous, 'cause for once I'm not following you around like some kind of lost puppy!"

The Doctor bristled as her words cut through the air like razor blades. For some reason, her retort caused an irrational anger to rise inside of him. "You think I'm acting this way because I'm _jealous_?" he asked incredulously. He shook his head in disbelief, "Rose, jealousy is the last thing on my mind right now! All I care about is your safety."

"Oh, yeah," Rose gave a cold bark of laughter that didn't suit her at all, "Right. Sure. And when you left me and Mickey alone on that ship in the middle of nowhere to go running after _Madame de Pompadour_, did you care about my safety then?"

The Doctor, wounded by the comment, started to defend himself, but Rose wasn't letting him get a word in edgeways.

"No wait, hold on," Rose continued, the spite rising in her voice, "I think I understand now. You just don't want to be lonely! Let's keep Rose safe, 'cause she's the nearest blonde around!"

"Stop it!" the Doctor snapped at her, finding it impossible not to engage in protesting her absurd words, "You know full well that it's not like that. I want you safe because I care."

"Oh, I know that," she replied, surprising him with her answer. The fact that the coldness hadn't retreated from her gaze, however, foreshadowed that there was a monumental "but" coming on. "I know you care. You care about all of us. I should feel grateful about that, yeah? Being one of the million girls you cared enough about to take along on a magical space trip!"

Her remark stung. "No, Rose—"

"_As opposed to what?_" she spoke over him, throwing the echoed words back in his face. The Doctor could see tears starting to glisten in her eyes, "That's what you told me when I asked you if I was just the latest in a long line. Stupid Rose, you must've thought. Stupid me thinking that I was too special to one day be left behind just like all the others!"

The Doctor shook his head, feeling his hearts ache at the sight of her being so upset. "Rose—"

"Will I at least get to say goodbye when you leave me?" she continued on, deaf to his protests, "Are you at least going to tell me why?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Rose, stop it—"

"Or are you just going to wait it out until _I _leave you?" she asked him, not caring about what he had to say, "What with me being so jeopardy-friendly, I don't imagine you'll have to wait very long until I—"

"_I am not losing you again!_" he shouted over her, refusing to hear any more of the venom spilling from her lips.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the Doctor knew that he had made a misstep.

His exclamation was met with a pressing silence as the two of them realised what had just happened.

That had been it; all those months of unspoken tension building up between them, all those things left unsaid—the strain had finally reached its breaking point.

The elephant in the room had finally made itself known.

Rose looked at him with an odd expression on her face; some sort of mingling of anger and confusion.

"Again?" she repeated slowly.

This was Rose. She never missed anything. Especially not small slips of the tongue on his part. It was safe to say that this little slip-up had now effectively landed his foot in his mouth.

The Doctor stuttered for a few seconds as Rose's eyebrows climbed high on her forehead, silently requesting some clarification.

"I can't talk to you like this," he resolved to say. It technically wasn't a lie, either; what with Dracula eyeing their little domestic to the one side and Rose not being in her right state of mind to the other, this really wasn't the time or the place to be discussing what he had done three months previously. Not that he was actually planning on telling her about it afterwards —or, well, ever— anyway, but that was beside the point.

Rose, however, wasn't going to be placated that easily.

"Oh no," she said dangerously, "You're not shutting me out this time. That's the most you've said to me about what you've been feeling in a long time, and we're talking about it whether you like it or not. I don't care how _inconvenient _you think the situation is!"

Choosing to ignore her inquiry for information, the Doctor turned his attentions back to the Count who was quietly surveying their exchange from his position at the table. "This is all _your _fault," he told the vampire icily, "You're the one putting all these thoughts into her head. You're trying to turn her against me!"

Dracula grinned back at him, but it was Rose who answered.

"No, Doctor."

She prompted him to look back at her with the sudden hopeless tone of her voice. She fixed him with an expression that was so fierce and fragile at the same time that the Doctor had no idea what her next action would be.

She took a deep breath as she took a step away from him. The step was small, but the distance between them felt significantly further.

"You're doing that all by yourself," she stated simply before turning on her heel and heading out the door.

He listened as her footsteps grew fainter and fainter on the stone flooring in the hallway. Finally, Rose was fully out of earshot and the Doctor was left alone with a very intrigued vampire observing him.

"Interesting," Dracula remarked, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

"Enjoyed that, did you?" the Doctor asked the Count quietly, still staring at the door, "Playing on her insecurities like that, taking advantage of her most private thoughts. I bet you were having a right laugh."

The smirk became a full-blown malicious smile on the Count's lips. "To a certain extent," he admitted shamelessly. Then his face became pensive as he stood up and started pacing towards the Time Lord, "What was interesting about my little behavioural experiment, however, had more to do with you, Doctor."

The Doctor frowned as he turned to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," the vampire was drawing ever nearer; a lion stalking its prey, "One would think—or rather, _you_ certainly would—that my looking into Rose's psyche was for the benefit of finding methods by which I would be able to draw her in. Make her my own, if you will."

The Doctor's fists clenched instinctively at this. "And that wasn't the reason, then?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as level as he could.

Dracula continued his pacing, moving in a slow trek around the room. Tightening the circles in which he moved around the Doctor ever so slightly. "Initially it was," he conceded, "At first glance, I merely saw the opportunity to include another beauty to my collection," the Doctor frowned in disapproval, but the Count didn't seem to acknowledge this. "But then, when I looked inside your mind, everything changed."

The bad feeling in the pit of the Doctor's stomach doubled.

"What did you see?" he asked warily.

The Count smiled. It was a smile filled with wonder, awe—lust.

"I saw _her_," he said, and for a moment the reverence in Dracula's voice reminded the Doctor of the way in which Ana had spoken about the vampire earlier, "Oh, I only caught a glimpse of it, seeing as you are so very good at erecting the appropriate barriers in your mind, but saw it I did."

His eyes betrayed that he had transported himself to the scene of his description, seeing its majesty as though he were in the process of living the memory himself.

"A creature with the face of a girl and eyes that burnt like the sun," he continued without pause, "Rose, a mere human to the outside observer, with boundless knowledge untold. And so much _power_…" he trailed off, completely swept away by the glorious image.

"She's not like that anymore," the Doctor told him with conviction, "I took all that power and knowledge out of her."

"And what a pity that is," the vampire said rather sadly, his pacing having displaced him to the other side of the room. A cunning glint appeared in his eyes, "But, Doctor, you know as well as I that she is far from human. You may have removed the cause, but not the symptom."

He wasn't making any sense, the Doctor decided. He watched suspiciously as the Count halted his pacing, concluding the tightest of the circles he had moved in to come to a stop right in front of the Time Lord.

"Wasteful," Dracula told him in an admonishing tone, "That is what you are being, Doctor. Wasting all that residual energy for the sake of retaining something as flimsy as _mortality_," he said the last word as though it was some repulsive curse. "Foolish are the actions of a man blinded by love."

The Doctor ignored the remark. "She's not capable of containing that amount of power," he said darkly, "It would kill her in a matter of minutes."

"Would it?" Dracula challenged, moving closer to the other man, "Would it really, Time Lord? Or perhaps, you are in truth afraid of the possibility that it _wouldn't_."

"Don't," the Doctor said flatly, his face turning menacing, "Don't even _try."_

The Count smiled then. An easy, victorious smile.

"Oh, but Doctor," he replied triumphantly, "I already have."

As if on cue, Rose's scream rang out in the distance.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: So, in celebration of my exams finally meeting their end, it's a two-chapter week! YAY! I thought it only fitting to do these two in the same week, seeing as it's effectively one chapter split up in two parts. I'm hoping that you'll like it. I'm hoping even more that you'll review and tell me how much you liked it (*nudgenudge* *winkwink*)**

**Peace out! (Teehee :) )**

…

She didn't understand what exactly it was that she was about to do.

Rose had been walking—well, stalking, really—down the long corridor only a few minutes prior.

She'd just been so _angry_. Angry at the world, angry at herself, angry at _him_…

_How dare he! _She kept on thinking. How _dare_ he do this to her! How dare he be so jealous and possessive and callous towards her! How dare he try to dictate her life and her actions, just because he said that he _cared_! How dare he deem her too _worthless_ to even—even—

She'd stopped then, a frown making itself known on her brow.

The Doctor would never call her worthless. She couldn't believe that she could have even thought that he would. However much he _did _care for her, no matter in what way it was, of that one, simple fact she was absolutely certain.

The Doctor would never, ever think that she wasn't worth anything.

She'd shaken her head furiously as the revelation gave her a moment of much-needed clarity. It was like a light at the end of the tunnel.

Why was she so angry? It didn't make any sense. She was hardly the type to rage for no apparent reason.

Especially not with _this _type of anger. She'd never in her life felt such a deep, dark abyss of destruction running through her. All she wanted to do—and she couldn't believe that she was even thinking this—was _hurt _someone.

Hurt _him_.

And now here she stood, completely uncertain of anything she was feeling. Completely unwilling to trust any of her thoughts. Because, if she'd learnt one thing from these years in which she'd travelled with the Doctor, it was this:

People, in any shape or form, were capable of anything.

And that included controlling one's thoughts.

The clarity was short-lived. In the time it took to take a breath after having received this epiphany, Rose was once again struck with a completely disarming and dominating thought.

_You are cold_.

And she was, she suddenly realised. She was _very_ cold. Even the thick fabric of her dress couldn't seem to keep the warmth in.

Rose lifted her hands to rub against her arms, hoping that the friction would create some sort of change in the rapidly-falling state of her body temperature. She stopped the rubbing for a moment to notice that her fingernails had turned a deathly hue of blue. Had there been a mirror anywhere nearby, she would have probably noticed that her lips had followed suit.

She looked around as an instinctual desperation came over her. She was going to freeze, her body screamed. It was going to shut down at any moment if she didn't find some way to warm it up.

That was when she saw her saviour in disguise.

The sun!

The sun was shining!

It was nature's most fundamental source of warmth. Surely it would do an efficient job of heating her up as well. That wouldn't be too difficult for it, now would it?

No, Rose decided. It most certainly wouldn't.

There was a large window waiting right in front of her. Once again, the wrought-iron fixtures that surrounded it and the way it arched up high into the ceiling above wasn't particularly to her taste, but it would most certainly do for letting the light in.

She rushed over and her clumsy fingers, stiff from the cold, fumbled with the thick velvet draperies that hid her treasure. Finally, her hands seemed to find a gap between the two sheaths of material. No hesitation came before she pulled the obstruction away and fully exposed herself to the powerful rays of heat from outside.

At first, all she experienced was the pleasant warmth that stole over her as soon as the light fell on her frozen features. She felt relief spread through her as the warmth did, filling her from head to toe.

But then, as the coldness subsided, the heat continued to rise. Not too long and Rose found that she was suddenly uncomfortably warm. Like she had a bad fever.

She decided that it would be best to step away from the heat. If the cold returned while she was back in the shadow, she would simply step back out into the sun. Point being, she didn't want any more sunlight. This would suffice.

That was what her mind thought, at least.

Her body didn't seem to agree. The sense of discomfort grew, but there came no reaction from her feet when Rose tried to take a step backwards. None of her limbs would make so much as a move towards what she was ordering them to do in her head. Their only function seemed to be to hold her in place as the uncomfortable heat turned into a burning sensation.

It was only when she felt the first hint of it that she knew that she was in some definite trouble. This had just become something much more than a passive abnormality on her part.

She gave an involuntary whimper as the feeling of getting one's hand burnt on a warm stove tore through her skin. She managed to inch her eyes into getting a view of one of her hands clutching at her forearm.

The skin was turning red and raw right in front of her eyes.

Rose's knowledge of first-aid applications was limited to a one-off night-class she'd gone to with Shareen way-back -when, but she knew what a first-degree burn looked like. She also knew what happened to people who were exposed to heat for even longer periods of time.

If she could just call for help, Rose thought in dismay. All she needed to do was to open her mouth and let loose one good scream. But the muscles in her jaw were just as rigid as the rest of her body.

The smoke started to rise. She smelt it before she saw it, and when she did, some tears broke free from her eyes. They rolled uselessly off her cheeks and onto the floor, doing nothing to staunch the rising fire that was Rose's body.

Was this it?

Was this how she died?

_Oh please_. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting loose a few more tears in the process. _Please don't let this be it._

_I can't do this to him._

And suddenly, as the flames started to engulf her frozen form, one last, impossible ounce of strength sprung forth from that little thought. Whether the strength could be accredited to desperation, or fear, or even love she didn't know, but in that moment Rose found in her the strength to let one, sole scream escape her lips.

It was enough.

Through the pain, she heard the feet as they came running.

"_NO_!" she heard the panicked shout from behind her.

Cool hands gripped her by the arms. It hurt. Everything hurt.

She was vaguely aware of the fact that she had been thrown onto the ground. She was in motion and she guessed that this was an attempt to put out the flames. Her entire body must have been burnt. She was entirely mutilated.

Then she was sitting down, her back supported against something cold and hard. A wall, probably.

"Rose," a voice, low with distress, said somewhere near her face, "Rose, can you hear me?"

With great, great effort, she managed a feeble nod of her head.

"Alright," the voice breathed out, sounding the slightest bit more relaxed at the acknowledgement of this. Then, the voice turning clinical, "Listen Rose, you're in bad shape. You have third-degree burns all over your body and—and the only way that I'm going to be able to help you is if we get you to the TARDIS med-bay."

Rose gave another painful nod. "Please," was all she could rasp.

Another breath was released. This one shaky. "But it's not that easy," he continued and she registered the barest whisper of a touch to her cheek, "And I'm sorry, Rose. I am so, so sorry, but I'm going to have to take you there. Right now."

The realisation of what he was trying to tell her caused her to speak slightly more clearly. "Outside?" she asked slowly, hating the way talking sent pain shooting through her face and down her torso.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

She knew then that he was gathering her up in his arms. She felt his cool touch on her burnt skin and she held onto it as the sweet blackness threatened to overtake her. She wouldn't let it. She knew what lay in wait for her there.

"Not now," she heard him say flatly, "You just stay out of my way."

"Oh, not to worry, my dear Doctor," the Count's lulling voice sounded, "I am merely here to see you out and bid you a good day for the time being."

When the Doctor answered, his voice was reminiscent of a time in which he'd proclaimed "no second chances".

"After I've helped Rose and gotten those other girls out from under your claws, I'm going to make you pay for this."

It wasn't a threat.

They were walking again. Rose got the distinct impression that the Doctor's anxiety was slowly rising with every step he took. He continued to move faster and faster, but Rose was aware of the fact that he was still making a conscious attempt to jostle her as little as possible through his movements. As it were, it wouldn't have made a difference if he did. Every part of her was screaming in agony either way.

"I'm sorry," he murmured to her again as they abruptly came to a halt.

She knew what was coming next, but it in no way served to lighten her load. The doors leading to the outside of the castle were flung open and both Doctor and companion were hit with an encompassing dose of sunlight.

All Rose could do in her weak state was gasp in pain as the burning picked up where it had left off.

"I moved the TARDIS closer to the castle just before I went there with Dracula," he explained through laboured breaths as he put in an effort to run as fast as his legs would allow him to. "Thought I'd brought it near enough at the time. Didn't want it too close to everything that was happening 'round here." At this he gave a humourless laugh.

"S'not—your fault," Rose breathed, watching as the smoke started rising from her skin afresh. Soon she was going to be a pile of ash.

"'Course it is," the Doctor murmured through gritted teeth. His running slowed slightly, "Here we are."

Rose listened to his near-frantic movements as he rammed the TARDIS key into its lock and flung the door open. Almost immediately, the TARDIS's soothing presence surrounded them both, sending a message of reassurance and comfort to them. Letting them know that they were safe and home.

The Doctor didn't allow the message to comfort him. He all but ran down a long, winding corridor and found the med-bay on the first try. The TARDIS was trying just as hard to help Rose as he was.

"Thank you," Rose heard him mutter to the ceiling before carrying her inside and placing her on a flat yet comfortable surface. The light in the room was of the stark-white variety, but she quickly noticed that the burning had not been furthered because of this.

In fact, the burning had stopped completely.

So had the pain.

"What'd you give me?" she muttered as intelligibly as she could, trying to turn her head to where the Doctor stood.

"Hmm?" his face came into view, and for the first time Rose detected the wild desperation that lay there. He frowned at her. "I haven't given you anything yet."

With a sense of satisfaction, Rose managed to lift her head a little. "The pain's gone," she told him softly. To her surprise, the words also came out slightly clearer than she had thought they would.

She watched as the Time Lord's eyes flicked downwards and up over her body. When their eyes met again, his were clouded with a new kind of worry. "Your burns are healing," he told her.

Rose felt her brow furrowing. The pain of the action quickly had her smoothing it out again, but her incomprehensive state still remained unwavering. "How's that even pos—"

Another bout of energy blew through her, this one containing enough to give her the strength to lift her hand and witness the strange situation firsthand. Her hand was still completely raw and, quite frankly, made her stomach turn slightly at the sight of it, but it was definitely not the kind of burn one got from being on fire for minutes on end.

"Your skin cells are regenerating," he told her quietly.

Rose looked up only to see that the Doctor was glancing away guiltily. His words and his actions once again weren't being cohesive.

"But that's good, yeah?" she asked him slowly. Now that she had an awareness of it, the strength seemed to be returning to her at an even faster pace. She was even contemplating sitting upright in a few moments' time.

The Doctor looked back at her and answered honestly. "I'm—not sure."

Rose looked at him questioningly.

He sighed. "Rose, you were dying just a few minutes ago. And rightly so, since you'd literally been burnt alive," the expression on his face told her that he fully blamed himself for this. He was mentally beating himself up over it.

"It wasn't your fault, Doctor," she told him again.

It was clear that he didn't believe her in the slightest.

"So, why exactly are my cells regenerating so quickly?" she changed the subject. To her delight, she managed to prop herself up into a semi-sitting position with her hands, even though it still hurt like hell to do this.

He turned his back to her under the pretence that he was fiddling with the microscope on the table behind him. She knew that he was just hiding his guilt-ridden face from her, though. "No idea," he said, "I'm guessing that it must be as a result of the mutated cells in your system because of what Dracula did when he—" he let the sentence hang, and Rose saw the swift clenching of his fists.

"Anyway," he turned back to her, putting on his glasses, "I'd have to do a full scan to be completely certain."

"Okay," she agreed immediately.

The Doctor gave her a look that meant that there was more to the request than that. And that she wasn't going to like the rest of it. He turned back to the table and procured a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "And I need you to get some rest in the meantime," he told her seriously.

Rose scrutinised him for a moment, sizing up the needle with stubborn ire. But, realising the gravity of the situation, she finally gave a relenting sigh.

"Okay," she said, holding out her arm.

…

The Doctor halted his nervously tapping foot.

She was alright, he told himself. He'd just seen it for himself fifteen minutes ago. She'd been fine every single time he'd gone to check in the past hour. She was sleeping peacefully and her burns were healing well.

But the fact still remained that she almost died today. _Again_.

At this the Doctor halted his work completely. He was in the lab, trying his level best to analyse the results of Rose's sc ans. Trying to file away the other thoughts pounding away at his brain as he would normally do.

He tugged at his hair, frustrated, kicking his chair out a few inches from underneath the desk he was working on.

_What was wrong with him_?!

He knew exactly how agonising an experience losing her was, yet still he continued to place her in these compromising positions.

Not that he could have known that this would have come out of their little joy-ride to Transylvania, but he should have gotten them out of there the moment he'd realised that Dracula showed any remote interest in her. Should have never left her alone in a separate wing of the castle when he knew that the possibility of her falling prey to the vampire was so high. Should have never let her walk away from him in the dining room after finding out that the Count had such a strong grip on her mind…

Should've, could've, would've. The point was that he hadn't done any of those things. That was what had landed them in this situation. Now all he could do was damage control.

Rose could have died today, but she _hadn't_.

His job at the moment was to find out why that was.


	8. Chapter 8

"It doesn't make any sense!" he growled under his breath.

Another unsuccessful hour of monitoring the results of Rose's scans had passed. Just like the hour before, nothing was coming of the Doctor's work.

He ground his teeth together.

She would be waking up soon, he knew. And because she was Rose, she'd be wanting answers as soon as her eyes were open. It was one of the many things he found so brilliant about her; that unwavering thirst for knowledge that she had—

But not when he was trying to keep those answers from her.

No. Wait. That wasn't precisely what he was doing.

It wasn't that he was specifically trying to _hide_ anything from her (at least pertaining to this particular matter), he was just ensuring that conclusions weren't prematurely reached by the communication of inconclusive theories.

She didn't need unnecessary burdening with things that hadn't even been proven yet. That probably never even would be.

Because, obviously, the mere notion was absolutely obscene.

He looked down at the scan results again.

Scans had detected that there were, as he'd predicted, alien cells in her system. They were wreaking havoc in her left right and centre, attempting to slowly convert the other cells in her body. The epidermis cells had been the first to have been reached by the foreign objects, hence Rose's extreme sensitivity to natural light.

But then an abnormality had occurred, and in the back of his mind the Doctor had known it would. The foreign cells had halted their infiltration completely and, instead, Rose's own cells had started converting them _back_. Not only that, but the cells were also rebuilding, repairing and renewing any and all damage that had been caused in the foreign cells' wake.

That was a rather normal thing for the human body to do, actually. It was just a natural defence mechanism to protect a body from harm.

But never, in almost a thousand years, had the Doctor seen a human heal and defend herself so quickly of her own accord.

And, all big words aside, right there was the real reason he wasn't rushing to Rose's side to inform her of his findings. He knew all too well why her body was reacting the way it was. It had taken a psychotic vampire for him to realise, but now he knew.

It was Bad Wolf.

"Doctor?"

He turned around in surprise, hands still tugging at his hair, when he saw the blonde head poking timidly through the doorway to the lab.

She bit her lip uncertainly, for a moment hesitant to enter the room. It wasn't that she usually walked on eggshells like this in the TARDIS—by this time the ship was just as much her home as it was the Doctor's—but she'd always felt a certain apprehension towards entering the laboratory. When the Doctor was in here, he usually wanted to be left alone. Many a row between them had ended with the Time Lord storming off into this very room, slamming the very door she was standing next to shut behind him—old regeneration and new.

It was his space as much as her room was hers. She felt a little like an intruder.

"You're supposed to be resting," the Doctor admonished softly, taking in her appearance. He'd gotten her changed into a hospital gown earlier (though the sight of her in it brought back more than a few unpleasant New Earth memories) and he was pleased to see that her previously charred skin was looking healthy and only slightly pink.

Noticing his staring, Rose gave a small smile. "I was looking a bit worse for wear earlier, wasn't I?"

The Doctor almost laughed outright at the, and he had every right to say it, understatement of the century, but finally just settled on returning her smile. "You're better now, that's what's important."

"Yeah," Rose said, her eyes shifting slightly to the side and a small crease forming between her brows. The Doctor was just about to ask her if she was alright when she looked up again and a familiar spark of curiosity appeared in her eyes. "So, you find anything yet?"

And there it was.

"Oh, this and that," he answered nonchalantly, doing a little lean-back in his chair for effect. "Not much in the way of anything conclusive."

Rose looked sceptical. "You didn't find anything?" she asked him again.

She was scrutinising him. He could feel it.

Rose had a way of doing that without making it overtly apparent. And were it anyone other than him she was turning that inquisitive gaze on, anyone who didn't know Rose Marion Tyler well enough to know the little tricks that would throw her off—well, she would most probably have discerned his every thought within the minute.

"Nope," he popped the "p" lightly and went about changing the subject at a lightning-fast pace, "How are you feeling?"

Rose knew what he was doing. And he knew that she knew what he was doing. But, as was usually the case, they dropped it. He wasn't completely in the clear, but the promise Rose held in her eyes of the talk they'd have later at least gave him some time to fabricate something to tell her.

"I feel fine, actually," she told him. The crease in her brow reappeared, "And that's not normal. Why am I feeling fine when I should be dead, exactly?"

So maybe she wasn't dropping it this go around, then.

"I told you that it was as a result of the mutated cells—"

"Yeah, you did say that," Rose interrupted him.

Something of an uneasiness spread through the Doctor as he truly saw the expression on Rose's face for the first time. It wasn't blatantly there on the surface, but beneath her calm exterior he could finally see that she'd reached the end of her rope. With him.

"But see, Doctor," Rose, emboldened, took a step into the laboratory, "I've just about had enough of you _telling _me things when you actually _mean _something completely different. And, quite frankly, I think I may deserve at least a tiny shred of truth after today. After being kidnapped, and bitten, and brainwashed, and _burnt alive_—I think I'm due a little bit of honesty."

The Doctor flinched. "Rose, I'm so sorry," he murmured and for an instance he really, truly hated himself for continuously putting Rose through what he did. Especially considering that he was at his happiest when she was happy.

Rose must have seen the self-loathing siphon into his gaze, because the next moment she walked into the room fully, all her trepidation forgotten, and enveloped him in a soft hug.

"You shouldn't be," she spoke into his chest as he rested his chin on her crown, "Even if I die tomorrow, you should never be sorry for being the one who pulled me into this mad, terrible, brilliant world of yours."

His arms tightened around her at the words and he knew that she didn't understand how much what she'd just said really meant to him. Or how much it scared him.

When she pulled back a little her face was serious. "But that doesn't change the fact that I want to know what the hell is going on with you."

And at that moment, thankfully, the TARDIS decided to save her Doctor an explanation by giving a massive lurch.

Rose, still clinging to the Doctor, felt her feet being knocked out from under her. The shift in their weight as Rose toppled to the floor caused the Doctor to lose his balance, pulling him down with her. On the cold tiles, the two barely noticed their position on top of each other before the world around them started shaking violently.

"What's happened?!" she asked in alarm, pushing him off her in order to sit up.

The Doctor fixed her with a worried expression before promptly pulling both of them into a standing position. He was about to set course for the console room, Rose in tow, when she dug her heels into the floor.

"Come on!" he called impatiently, already sprinting ahead of her.

"Not until I'm dressed in some proper clothes!" Rose returned, swiftly heading in the direction, to her bedroom.

Clad in a fresh jumper, denims and trainers, Rose found the Doctor running around the console and looking all the mad scientist she sometimes imagined him to be five minutes later. She hadn't even bothered trying to freshen up her makeup as well, seeing as she could barely remain on her feet the entire time she was busy getting dressed.

"Found anything yet?!" Rose called above the din of the cloister bells.

"Getting close!" he answered, never faltering in his running about, "Just one more touch—HA!" He gave a triumphant grin as he flipped a switch and the time machine steadied the slightest bit. "Found the problem. It's a temporal disturbance. She's trying to shake it off, but it's—"

And then the smile swiftly fell from his face as he took in the words on the scanner.

"It's what?" Rose asked, inching closer to him by supporting herself on a coral pillar.

"It's—" he looked up and for a fraction of a second Rose saw pure, raw terror in his eyes. Then he gave a small shake of his head, covering the look with indifference. "It's nothing. Probably just some residual energy left by a passing Time Agent."

The Doctor didn't wait to see if he'd convinced her (which he hadn't), instead moving around the console once more, pulling levers all the way.

"It's damaging her circuitry," he babbled as he went, "She'll adapt around it eventually, but right now she just needs time to compensate for the excess influx of temporal energy through her stabilisers. That means that she'll have to remain stationary for a certain period of time."

He stopped for a moment and looked her with an intensity that caused her heart to beat a little faster. "And _that _means that this may be my only chance—"

He twisted a final knob and suddenly the room around them stilled. The absence of the ringing cloister bells caused a deathly silence to fall between the Doctor and Rose.

The former moved out from his position behind the console and fully into Rose's line of sight. As his eyes fell on the door to the outside, a familiar expression fixed itself on his face.

"We're here," he said, and suddenly his voice was strangely detached.

Rose felt a shiver of apprehension run up her spine as she realised that he was avoiding her gaze.

"Where?" she asked warily.

He didn't answer her. All he did was give a small nod in the direction of the door, telling her to open it.

Rose could feel it; a sudden choking feeling rising in her throat. As she moved to open the door, her fingers felt strangely numb.

The door swung open and it was work not to have her knees give out underneath her as she took in what lay on the other side. She looked out blankly into the night; at the large building that loomed in front of her, at the floor on which she knew her mother's flat would be.

"You're home," she heard him say behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: Don't hate me too much for this chapter...**

**...**

"I'm home," she repeated. She was surprised at how level and calm she sounded.

"Yep," he said, a false note of cheer in his voice, "Safe and sound."

"End of the line," she murmured.

This was the only option, the Doctor had decided. His first priority was keeping Rose safe, and he would do that at practically any cost.

He'd connected the dots when he'd seen the scanner. He'd finally seen, finally understood just what he'd done. And that had been the final straw in the end. This trip had been a massive mistake.

In his contemplations, he didn't even notice the way that Rose was steeling herself for heartbreak. Slowly erecting the appropriate barriers between her and the man she loved so the pain that would inevitably follow would be dampened.

"And I take it," she continued, her composure holding, "That you didn't bring us here for the TARDIS to recuperate?"

"No," the Doctor confirmed.

"And," she gave an almost inaudible swallow, "You're probably not staying either?"

"I have to get back to help those girls," he told her seriously.

Rose just nodded.

So it was going to be that way, then. He wasn't one for grand goodbyes. She understood that. He no doubt wanted to spare himself the sadness of losing more company. He'd just lost so many already. He probably had his reasons. She should just get it over with to spare him his feelings.

And Dracula had known, the Doctor fretted further, still not realising that Rose was now holding back tears. The vampire had realised how powerful she was with just a glance. Telling Rose to burn hadn't been some psychotic whim on the Count's part, it had been calculated. Another behavioural experiment. If the Doctor took Rose back now and Dracula saw her, the vampire would realise that his experiment had proved successful. She was radiating pure _power_. And it was wrong.

Even the TARDIS could feel it.

He needed her to lay low. He needed to be sure that she was safe and out of the way so that he could address more present dangers. Those young girls were still in the Count's clutches, under his spell—the Doctor had no doubt in his mind that Dracula would use them as leverage to get just what he wanted.

"Alright then," Rose said slowly, not wanting to stretch the agony out any longer than she had to, "I suppose I'll just—go, then."

The Doctor nodded. "Just to be safe," he told her, "The vampire cells haven't left your body completely yet, so you'll have to stay inside for a few days. Until the colour returns to your cheeks." He gave a small, soft smile.

Rose gritted her teeth to stop the tears from springing free. He had no right to still smile at her like that. Not when she now knew that nothing would ever come of it. Without another word she turned and took a step towards the door.

Then she turned back around. She just _couldn't _leave it there.

The tears had been falling the moment she'd turned her back and she knew that it would do no good to try to stop them at this late stage. Instead she just pretended that they weren't there.

Finally, the Doctor noticed. The smile turned into a look of concern.

"Rose? What's wrong?" he asked anxiously, his mind immediately jumping to the temporal energy and any discomfort it may be causing her.

Rose gave a laugh at his idiotic question, but made no move to answer it.

"Could you—" she clenched her fists and tried to retain her resolve, "could you just tell me what it was that I did wrong?"

The Doctor frowned at her. "You didn't do anything wrong," he told her earnestly. If anyone was to blame in this situation, it was him.

Rose gave a huff of frustration. "So, what is it then, if it isn't me?" she asked, trying to keep the small note of hysteria from her voice. She didn't want to part with him on bad terms, but she didn't just want him to disappear, either. She knew that it was naïve, and presumptuous, and so, so _human_, but she just wanted to know _why._

If anything, the Doctor just seemed more confused by her question.

"Of course it isn't you, Rose. If all of this is anyone's fault, it's—"

"Oh God, don't even say it," Rose said, giving another incredulous laugh, "Don't you _dare_ try using 'it's not you, it's me' on me," she shook her head and laughed again, "Don't you dare."

He didn't know how to make heads or tails of the conversation they were having. "Rose, what's gotten into you?"

That set her off.

"What's gotten into me? _What's gotten into me?!_" she threw her hands in the air hopelessly, "You know, I should've asked myself that same question when I decided to just up and leave everything I knew behind one day to follow some daft alien to the backwaters of the universe!"

The Doctor looked at her in shock, but made no move to interrupt. For once, he wished that Rose was under the Count's control, because at least then she'd been manipulated into screaming at him. This, was pure, furious Rose.

"And believe me, I never asked to feel about you the way I do!" she continued shouting, "I pushed it down for longer than I cared to count! But then you, you stupid git, you go and _die_ for me, and of course that just cinched it! After that, there was just no going back. And I didn't even care anymore, because just being near you was enough!"

When he'd decided that he'd had enough of her crying, the Doctor started moving forward to do something, _anything_ to comfort her, but she held up a hand signalling that her rant was far from over.

"And now I'm not even going to have that," she said quietly, "Now I can't even see you anymore. And that's fine. If that's what you want, then fine. I'm tough. I'll survive. But, before you leave, before you disappear like some mad, brilliant dream—please, just—_please_ tell me why."

He was utterly stunned.

"To keep you safe," he answered immediately.

Evidently that wasn't the right answer.

"_Oh_, that makes sense!" she cried, "_Of course_ you would say that! But guess what, Doctor? Guess what—I am _still_ going to die even if you do manage to keep me in a little glass case for the rest of my life. I am! And soon, too! Fifty years, sixty, I'll be shuffling off this mortal coil, same as all the rest! Not even you, mighty Time Lord that you are, can do anything about it!"

He flinched again, like he'd received a blow. He hated it when she rehashed her all too fleeting mortality.

But he also knew that she was right.

"Exactly," he told her quietly, moving forward and grasping her hands tightly even when she tried to pull away, "Exactly, Rose. And it's terrifying, knowing that you have that little time. It goes by in the blink of an eye, and after it has—" he looked away for a moment, only returning his gaze to her a few seconds later with steely resolve, "This is me trying not to cut it any shorter than it already is. And I am asking you, _begging_ you—just this once— see it my way."

He'd expected that his words would have an effect on her. What he didn't expect was precisely what that effect would be.

Because, the moment he'd made his plea, Rose's face suddenly became smooth and unreadable. Her eyes cold.

She extricated her hands from his grasp.

"You know," she said in a strangely hollow voice, "When Dracula was in my mind making me say all those things to you, I thought that that irrational fear I felt at that moment, that—that knowledge that you would eventually just abandon me one day—I thought that it was his doing," she closed her eyes, clenching her fists, "But it wasn't."

Then her eyes opened, throwing daggers at him. "It was _yours_."

He stared at her blankly, too afraid to think of what might happen next.

"And that isn't good for me," she continued steadily, "I realise that now. So, to spare you the trouble of losing me—_again_, whatever that means—I'll leave," she nodded to herself, "Yeah, that's probably best. I have friends here, got Mum to think about—I've got a life, Doctor, and I've been neglecting it. I should be getting back to the real world."

The Doctor stood, numb to his surroundings, not quite processing what he was being told. Was she really doing what he thought she was doing? Was she really just leaving?

But—

But she couldn't. She couldn't just _leave_.

She'd promised.

He watched as she turned and stepped out of the TARDIS. She kept walking for the longest time. Or maybe it was only a few seconds. He couldn't say that time really mattered at this point.

A slight distance away, she stopped. She looked at him over her shoulder. He hoped that the nightmare was coming to an end. He hoped that she would tell him that she was just angry with him, that he could still come back for her in a few days' time.

But she didn't.

All she said was "Have a good life, Doctor."

And that was how he knew that it was all over.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Hi guys! Sorry that I left you hanging AGAIN last week... to be perfectly honest, I was experiencing some hang-ups concerning a completely different author's work (read the _Written in the Stars _series by Whoson1st yet? It's amazing!). So...umm...I apologise for that. Aaanyway, here it is nonetheless! A short chapter to precede the super long one following it!**

**Hope you like it :)**

**...**

The Doctor muttered all manner of equations, scientific theories and philosophical debates to himself as he watched the steady movement of the time rotor. He stood, half-heartedly pulling stabilising levers as he piloted the TARDIS through the vortex. Back to the village. Back to problems that he stood some sort of chance solving.

As the emptiness and the silence and the distractions rang loudly in his ears, the Doctor _most certainly_ didn't ponder his personal circumstances.

Nope.

Alone with that big Time Lord brain of his, _not one solitary_ thought lingered on the fact that he had just unintentionally cocked up one of the very few good things in his life. Nowhere in his mind was he replaying the painful images of a certain blonde walking away from him. Abandoning him to his own devices…

Suddenly, the Doctor was startled from his pondering by a loud bang that echoed through the room. A split second later, a blossoming pain in his right hand alerted him to the cause of the bang. The TARDIS heaved a disgruntled groan at having received the blow to her console.

"Sorry, old girl," he muttered, patting the console softly with the offending hand.

Then he heaved a sigh, throwing his eyes to the ceiling.

"Sorry," he apologised again, shaking his head heavily and scrubbing a hand down his face, "I just can't seem to get things right with either of you two."

The TARDIS groaned once more, this time releasing a softer, more affectionate sound. The Doctor's mind was filled with an overwhelming sense of sympathy, followed by a strong reassurance.

_She'll come back_, the sensation translated.

At this he gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, not so sure if that's a good thing," he said into the empty room, probably looking all the mad man most people thought him to be.

Another reassurance.

_Tell her_, it said.

Before he could respond, the TARDIS landed with a small jolt. The Doctor gratefully took this as an opportunity to escape his, at the moment, overly chatty ship.

As he stepped out into the early morning sunlight of the small village he and Rose had initially landed in, the Doctor found himself eager to do _something_. At times in his life when things would look particularly grim, he found that finding a situation in which he could exert a certain amount of control usually served as at least a temporary remedy.

He would focus on more difficult tasks later.

He spotted Father Dorin rushing over to him as his eyes adjusted to the stark light. "Ah, Doctor!" the clergyman greeted, grasping one of the Doctor's hands in both of his, "Glad to see that you survived the night," he looked over his shoulder curiously for a moment before meeting his eyes again, "Did you manage to find your companion?"

The Doctor's eyes became hard as he realised what he would have to do. If he was really going to keep Rose safe, he was going to have to keep her true fate a secret. The Count couldn't be alerted of the fact that his experiment had been successful, and the Doctor had no way of knowing who was under the vampire's compulsion. No way of knowing how many eyes were following his every word and action.

"She's gone," he said in a hard voice, ignoring the pain just saying the words caused him.

Father Dorin's eyes widened. "Oh my," he said quietly, touching the cross that hung around his neck, "Oh, Doctor, I am so sorry. Blessed be her soul."

The Doctor just nodded with lips pulled into a tight line, hating this new game of pretend and keeping his mind firmly from straying to thoughts of the hospital.

"May I ask what happened?" the clergyman inquired not unkindly.

The Doctor didn't need to feign the cold fury that filled his eyes as he answered. "The demon," he said curtly. He suddenly snapped into business mode at this, looking down at the now nervous-looking Father Dorin, "I'm going to put a stop to this. All of this. How fast can you call a town meeting?"

…

The answer to the Doctor's question was two hours.

He watched quietly from his position at the head of the room, a barn that served as the only place big enough for a meeting such as this, flanked by Father Dorin to his right and Felix to his left. He looked over the people—men, women, children—filing in and taking their seats, all of them looking so normal. All of them potential spies for the Count.

The chatter died down as Felix stepped forwards to address the townspeople.

"It is something that has haunted our town for generations," he started, staring down each member of the large crowd in front of him, "It has touched all of our lives in some way. Whether it is through the absence of a mother, a sister, a cousin or a daughter, we have all felt the sting of the pain that this thing has inflicted on us," he paused again, "The demon."

As the words were said, a rustle of unease spread through the crowd. People shifted closer to one another and parents gripped their children just a little more tightly. But, the Doctor noted with a small smirk, no one ran.

Humans never ceased to amaze him with their bravery.

"And now a decision has been made," Felix continued, his voice gaining some strength, "We will no longer stand for this. We will no longer lay down the lives of our loved ones at the feet of this creature. We will take a stand. We will fight!"

Some cheers erupted from the crowd, but for the most part only disgruntled groans were heard.

"And what difference will this revelation make, then?" a woman shouted from the front of the crowd, "We already go out every night, walk around for hours in the name of protecting this town and our loved ones. And every night that we're out there, we find nothing. Just more women missing. What makes you think that it'll make any difference if we fight?"

Her words were met with angered shouts of agreement—which led to more complaints being shouted at the town head. Not a few minutes passed before everyone was on their feet, hurling insults to and fro and causing general uproar.

The Doctor took this as his opportunity to take centre stage. He moved forward, lifting up his hands. "Alright now," he told the rampaging people, "Quiet down."

No one, of course, was listening.

"Just—can everyone be quiet for a moment," he called again, to no avail, "Can everyone please—if you'll please just—just listen for one moment—alright—SHUT UP!"

His final words rang with authority through the room, causing a miraculous silence to befall every single person in his field of vision. Within the course of a few moments, the riot had stopped completely, everyone eyeing the newcomer with wary expectancy.

Felix raised his eyebrows. "Well done," he told the Doctor, "First time I've seen someone manage something like that with them. Should have you around for town meetings more often."

The Doctor looked out over the people solemnly, seeing the terror that was so plainly etched into each individual's features.

"I'm the Doctor," he told them, "Some of you met me the other night." He held their gazes steadily. "I know that you're scared. You've every right to be. This demon, he's been hitting you all where it hurts. Not only has he made you afraid of the dark, afraid to even move around in your own town freely, he's also threatened and taken the people you love. I know how that feels."

He allowed his thoughts to drift to Rose, hurt and violated because of the Count. The rage that the thoughts filled him with only served to fuel the fires of his determination as he spoke again: "But hear this: They have a name for me out there. They call me the Oncoming Storm. They call me that, because if I say something stops, it _stops_."

His voice rose in volume and power, and when he said his final words, it was directly to the old vampire who was no doubt watching from his castle through the eyes of an unsuspecting patron. "It's coming for you, Dracula. The consequences of everything that you've done over the years, everyone you've manipulated—they're catching up with you. Not long now," he looked into the crowd's eyes intently, "Your move, Count."

…

Sitting comfortably in a chair in his study, the Count looked on as the infuriated Time Lord gave his speech, so sure that it would shake the age-old vampire. So sure that he had the upper hand…

He smiled at that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: A wild update appears! LOL hey guys…turns out there was still a scene I needed to add, so long chapter's only coming next week. This one's cool too, though, I promise :D. **

**Oh, and happy Christmas for Thursday by the way!**

…

Oh, this was _so _stupid.

Stupid and daft and so—so—

_Human._

The Doctor tried talking himself out of what he was doing for the tenth time. Just as the nine times before, however, the dominant part of his mind—the part that was completely besotted—immediately took over, prompting him to dial her number from the TARDIS console once more.

The rational part of his brain quickly chimed in with the plan as the phone rang on the other side, reassuring him that he was merely calling to check if the vampire cells had exited her system as of late. _Not_ to beg for her to come back.

Unfortunately, rationality also only went so far, and constantly he had to remind himself that having her back with him _right at this moment_ would be counterproductive, anyway. He was still keeping up the guise that the Count's experiment had failed, after all. Her safety was more important than his needs.

Plus he was stuck here while the TARDIS recuperated. That plan would never have worked in the first place.

Also like with the nine times before, disappointment washed over him as the only voice that greeted the Doctor on the other side of the line was that of a younger Rose, cheerfully informing him that he should leave a message.

Despite himself, he grinned at the sound of her voice. It didn't sound as though she could have been much older than fourteen or fifteen at the time the message was recorded, but the joy evident in it was familiar.

He missed it.

Right then, he thought with finality. That was enough of that. Either Rose was avoiding him (very likely) or she'd lost her phone again (also likely).

_Or_…

Or—she wasn't able to answer her phone. Why wouldn't she be able to answer her phone? Was something wrong with her? Did something go wrong with the vampire cells? What if she'd been exposed to too much sunlight again?

Rassilon, what if it was Bad Wolf?

And quick as that, he was punching numbers into the console again. Fine then, he thought. If she wasn't going to answer her cell, he'd just have to reach her at home.

The phone rang for about two beats before someone on the other side picked up.

The Doctor breathed out a sigh of relief. See? Nothing to worry about.

"Rose—" he started.

"And what gives you the right to harass my daughter day and night, you big alien prat?!"

Oh. That wasn't Rose.

"Jackie," the Doctor greeted, his voice shooting up a few octaves in surprise, "Listen, I need—"

"No," Jackie cut him off, "_You _listen. You leave her here, contaminated with _God knows what_, heartbroken and with instructions that she has to stay inside indefinitely or otherwise be burnt to a crisp—_and then _you have the nerve to call her cell over and over again, sending her into near-fits as she tries not to answer?! _Just who the hell do you think you are?!"_

"I _did not_ leave her," he replied darkly.

"Oh, is that right?" Jackie said sarcastically, "Funny you should say that, 'cause she sure as hell ain't there with you, is she?!"

"Not that it's any business of yours, but _she _left _me_!" he snapped irritably.

She scoffed at this. A proper grunt of a scoff. "Oh, come off it!" she sniped, "Don't you try to play all innocent with me! She told me the whole story, Rose did. How you were cosying up to her the one minute and kicking her out to the curb the next. How you've been hiding things from her for _months_! What kind of a woman do you think would put up with something like that? 'Cause it certainly isn't my Rose!"

"Jackie, you don't understand anything," he said in a low voice, suddenly feeling their circumstances weigh down on him once again. They were just barely hanging in the balance of a very, very delicate situation. If one of the threads were to snap—the Doctor shuddered to think of possible consequences.

"I understand perfectly!" she told him stubbornly, "You're a git and you've just proved it!"

The Doctor knew that she was about to slam the phone in his ear. In a last-ditch effort to get some worthwhile information, he shouted: "Wait! Just hold on a moment! You can be as angry as you want with me, Jackie. I won't even hold it against you—but please, _please _just tell me this; is she alright?"

There was a long, pregnant pause. The Doctor began to wonder if his plea had gone unheard.

"Yeah, I suppose she is," Jackie finally answered, then added, "She says she's always alright."

The Doctor flinched at the words, hearing them echo back in his own voice. He didn't like the fact that she was using that now. It was definitely one of the less brilliant things she'd picked up from being around him.

"She hasn't been acting—strangely lately?" he pressed, "Been particularly forgetful, stopped talking mid-sentence—"

_Mentioned her undying devotion to Count Dracula_, he thought, though he didn't say that. One step (and slap) at a time.

"'Ere, what are you on about?" she asked suspiciously. Then he heard a sharp intake of breath and winced as her shrieking damaged his ear-drum, "_Have you gone and gotten her brain damaged_?!"

"No!" he protested vehemently, thrown off-track by her absurd accusation, "Of course not! Do you really think I'd leave her on her own _for one second_ if I knew that she was injured like that?"

"Well, you _have _abandoned her," she retorted coldly, "I reckon you're full of surprises."

He gave a huff of frustration and ran a hand through his hair. Humans. Most stubborn creatures in the universe. _Especially _Tyler-women.

"I'll call you again tomorrow," he resolved to conclude his conversation with the elder Tyler, "Keep a close eye on her, and if anything happens, call me. Just keep me posted."

There was another long pause, which was quickly followed by a relenting sigh.

"Fine," she said.

"Thank you," he replied earnestly before ending the call.

Then he was alone again. The silence stretched far and wide in the console room, giving him more than enough of a berth in which to ponder his circumstances.

As far as defeating the Count was concerned, he had made absolutely no leeway today. Like he said, humans were stubborn—and nowhere in the universe was a better example of that than in this small, nineteenth-century town that he was currently stuck in.

He'd tried wholeheartedly to convince the townspeople of the fact that the demon, and in extension his victims, were right under their noses, only to be met with avid accusations and ridicule.

_But you have to believe me_! He'd shouted at the crowd as the riot started afresh. _It's Dracula. It's always been him. He's had you all under his spell for years and years!_

_But that's exactly what you would say, isn't it?! _He'd heard someone shout over the ruckus. _Turning us against one of our own. Who's to say YOU'RE not the demon?! _

That had _really _set them off. As rightly it should. He'd practically been chased from the conference barn after that. Luckily Father Dorin and Felix had come to his aid, having been faced by this news previously, and had staved off the attack as best they could. They'd still proposed that he dash for safety, though.

The TARDIS was the safest place in the universe. No one was getting attacked in here.

At least not physically.

It had been perhaps thirteen hours since that incident. In the meantime, the Doctor had come up with a few courses of action, at least two of which did not entail running headlong into danger and taking things from there.

Part one, checking on Rose, had already been executed. Now, there was the matter of reaching Dracula, reaching his victims, or both. The former seemed the more logical option.

He stuck his head cautiously out the TARDIS door, surveying the picture that was seemingly identical from the night before. Of course, it wasn't really. Having the jarring worries of his predicament weighing down on him, no excitement for what lay ahead and plans flowing in his head to leg it back to the Powell Estate hitting at the walls of his mind, the picture was nearly unrecognisably different.

By the lack of sound present in the town and the warm lights flooding from windows to illuminate off-hand patches of street, the Doctor judged that mob-duty must have been called off for the night. He sent out a silent thank you to Felix and Father Dorin, who had undoubtedly had a hand in this.

He stepped out onto the street carefully, closing the door to his ship behind him. Then he leaned against said door and waited. He watched as the fog coating his form thickened before his eyes, and listened as footsteps purposefully approached him the next moment.

"You sure all this isn't a bit dramatic?" he remarked, waving a vague hand at his surroundings.

"Oh, but I enjoy indulging in the dramatics of life," Dracula replied as the fog parted to reveal his prone form, "And I have always believed that a shroud of mystery holds a certain appeal, wouldn't you agree?"

The Doctor shrugged, though his casual stance and manner was inhibited by the coldness with which he looked at the Count. "I've never really held mystery in such high regard myself."

Dracula gave a small smirk at this, tilting his head slightly as he sized up the Time Lord. "No," he finally said, "Mystery is merely an obstacle to you, is it not? Though some might say that that holds an appeal all its own."

The Doctor's gaze darkened as his patience ran out. "Where are you keeping those girls, Dracula?"

The vampire ignored this question, instead letting his eyes flicker to the Doctor's side and then to his surroundings. "And where is the lovely Rose this evening?" he asked, only the smallest hint of fervent curiosity appearing on his face, "I hope you do not mind me saying, Doctor, but she has proven herself to be a rather superior source of company." He flashed a predatory grin.

The Count was baiting him, he knew. He tried to school his features before the indignation on his face became too noticeable. "You burnt her alive, remember?" he answered through clenched teeth.

Dracula's face remained blank for about a second at his words, and for a moment the Doctor allowed himself a small piece of satisfaction at having actually surprised the old vampire.

"Oh," the Count said. His face became instantly indifferent, "How unfortunate."

His cool indifference caused some cracks to form in the dam the Doctor had tamped down on his rage. "_Unfortunate_?" he repeated incredulously, "Rose is gone, and you're saying that it's _unfortunate?_ All that talk about how special she was, and now she's gone you can't come up with any more emotion than you would if your neighbour's cat had run away?"

"She was unique," he gave a nonchalant shrug, "But certainly not irreplaceable."

The cracks in the Doctor's restraint widened a bit more. "If there is one thing that I can guarantee you today, Dracula," he said dangerously, "It's that there will _never_, in all of time and space, be someone that could replace Rose Tyler. The fact that you don't even know that just goes to show that you don't really know anything about her."

"Oh, how I grow weary of this irrational love that you harbour for the girl, Doctor," he said in a bored tone, "If her demise is unfortunate, the effect that she has had on your otherwise powerful being is simply tragic."

"My feelings for Rose don't weaken me."

Dracula scrutinised him far more intently than the Doctor was comfortable with. Say what you would about him, but the old vampire did seem to be startlingly perceptive. The Doctor was also beginning to wonder if perhaps the Count's intelligence was rising to rival his own. Not that that was really possible. Was it?

"You are a passive man," the Count observed, "From what I have seen in your mind and your demeanour in equal parts, I know that you abhor any form of violence. Yet _she_ drives you to it in an instance," he stopped and looked at the Doctor once more before continuing, "When driven to violence, you act on it. You show lesser beings just how powerful you are when they give you no other choice. Yet _she_ inhibits you from acting on compulsion. Tells you to be merciful and to forgive. Cuts your claws, clips your wings. Makes you a man of empty threats."

"Well then it's a good thing she isn't here to stop me now," the Doctor replied coldly, though uneasiness was spreading wide inside him, "You're trying my patience."

A corner of the vampire's mouth quirked upwards in amusement, and the Doctor thought to himself that that certainly hadn't been the desired effect of his words. The Count still believed himself to be in control, and the Doctor's main concern was the fact that he didn't know the reason for this.

"I suppose that I am," the Count suddenly relented, _"_I apologise for that. As a matter of fact, I apologise for everything. I must insist that you join me for dinner tomorrow evening and grant me the opportunity to make amends."

The Doctor gaped at him for a second before closing his mouth again with an audible click of his teeth. _What? _He thought. This was most likely another game that the Count was playing with him. He shook his head and fixed a smile on his face, serving the ball right back into the vampire's court. "Alright then," he agreed, "Dinner with the enemy. How could I refuse? No pears, mind. Don't like pears. Too much like apples but— you know—not." The light quality of his voice wavered slightly, "And we'll be discussing the terms of your hostages' release, I hope?"

The Count nodded. "But of course," he said, "I would think it only fair to hear you stake your claims after all that I have inflicted upon you. I will be seeing you, Time Lord."

The Doctor was about to reply, but the next moment the Count had vanished into thin air. He looked around to affirm this, before giving a wry nod that very much said _of course he can do that_.

"Not if I see you first," he muttered into the silent night air, then turning on his heel and striding back into the TARDIS.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Happy 2015 guys! So, this is the last of me being evil and making life difficult for the Doctor and Rose…You know, for this episode****—****yeah, I'm just going to go into hiding until this one blows over :D**

**Hold on to your hats, people. The penny's up in the air!**

…

The Doctor spent the better part of the next day on TARDIS repairs. Of course, what this was really code for, was a very bad distraction.

Quite disappointingly, the distraction wasn't even working properly.

To put it simply, the Doctor was mucking about in the console to heighten its magnetic fielding reserves and thereby disrupting some of the Artron Energy the TARDIS was putting out. He'd told Rose when his ship had picked up her temporal disturbance that the TARDIS would need time to compensate around the excess influx of energy, but the reason for her need to recuperate had in actuality been her extreme attraction towards Rose.

It was a well-known fact—or at least it had been on Gallifrey—that Artron Energy in sentient beings had the capacity to improve said beings' reserves for telepathic communication exponentially. These high levels of Artron Energy in Time Lords had certainly been at fault for the race being so dependent on this particular form of communication.

The problem, however, was this: Rose wasn't a Time Lord. She hadn't been the last time he checked, and he was about 99.67 percent sure that she wasn't now. So why were her Artron Energy levels so high? So high that she seemed to even possess certain regenerative qualities.

As established earlier, he didn't know anything other than the fact that it had something to do with Bad Wolf. What he did know, though, was that he wasn't going to risk a telepathic attack by the TARDIS—however innocent it may be—when he wasn't one hundred percent certain that her human brain could withstand it.

That brought him to what he was doing now; dampening the flow of Artron Energy through the TARDIS before he saw her again.

_If_ he saw her again…

He shook his head vigorously and once again tried to return his attentions to the task at hand, which was turning out to be more difficult than he'd estimated. The TARDIS was fighting him. Of course she would. She was screaming into his mind to allow her to strengthen her link with Rose. Saying that she could handle it.

"I'm not risking it," the Doctor told his machine through gritted teeth.

_Believe me_, she told him.

"Can't," he replied shortly, "I can't lose her to something like this."

_Believe in her, then._

He gave a frustrated growl, poking the field reserves once more with his screwdriver. At this the TARDIS heaved something resembling a frustrated huff before obligingly lowering her Artron Energy levels.

"Thank you," the Doctor said satisfactorily, getting up from his position and grinning at the ceiling.

The TARDIS groaned once more and gave him the equivalent of a mental shove, effectively letting him know that he was far from forgiven.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm being a git," he sighed, rubbing at his head painfully.

The TARDIS made a sound that was most definitely a confirmation.

Checking the time—almost time to meet the Count—the Doctor stepped towards the console monitor and punched in Rose's landline. He wasn't even going to try her cell this time, knowing full-well that she'd rather be trampled by a herd of elephants than speak to him at the moment.

"What do you want?" Jackie asked sharply when she answered.

"How'd you know it was me?" the Doctor frowned.

"Well, you would call at bloody three in the morning, wouldn't you?!"

"Oh," the Doctor pulled at his ear sheepishly, "Right. Sorry about that."

"Blimey, for someone who goes on about being Time Lord, you don't half know about good timing," she muttered, "Rose is alright, since you're about to ask. Sleeping, mind. As rightly she should be, too."

The Doctor gave a nod at this, ignoring Jackie's snarky tone of voice. "Still nothing strange in her behaviour, then?"

"Nah, she's the same old Rose," she said, before quietly adding, "Doesn't hammer on about you as much as I'm used to, though I should think the reason for that is self-explanatory."

The Doctor felt the familiar choke-hold of guilt gripping him, but quickly suppressed the feeling. The reason for Rose's avoidance was a misunderstanding. He'd realised this, thick genius that he was, later than he should have. She'd only left him, because she'd thought that he was leaving her. He just needed to show her that. She'd forgive him, then—he hoped.

Still—he couldn't help but ask. "Is she—"

"Crying herself to sleep every night? Probably, yeah," Jackie answered his unfinished question in a hard voice, "Although, I suppose I wouldn't really know. She's not actually said much to me about any of it. She's not even at home most of the time," she paused for a moment. When she spoke again, the underlying desperation in her voice startled him, "You _are_ coming back, aren't you Doctor? It's been two weeks, and she seems to be—coping, but—I dunno. There's just something about her. Like she's—empty. On the outside she seems fine, but—" she sighed, finally relenting, "I feel as though there's something off."

"And why are you only telling me this now?" he asked in a low voice.

"Didn't think it was any of your business," she echoed his previous words wryly, "Probably just Rose working through her emotions. You should have seen her after Jimmy. She was a right mess."

The Doctor shook his head. "Jackie—" he sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to level with the woman, "I'm right on the brink of cracking this. When I do, I _will _come back. I promise. Please tell her that."

"I will," Jackie agreed, "She won't listen, but I will."

With that she ended the call.

The Doctor sat back on the jump seat and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and his forefinger. He wasn't going to allow this to worry him. He was already concerned enough as it was. He gave a sniff before pushing off the seat, readying himself to head into the lion's den.

…

"Evening, Ana," he greeted the girl who answered the door to the Count's castle.

Ana glanced around the foyer apprehensively before answering. "Doctor," she said with a timid nod, "The Count is already waiting in the dining hall."

"Lovely," the Doctor remarked, though his tone said that he found this fact anything but.

Ana led him down the long, winding halls of the Count's castle. All the while, the Doctor took in his cold, stone surroundings with disdain. The last time he'd roamed these halls, he'd thought he was going to lose Rose yet again. He remembered already making contingency plan upon contingency plan; things he would do to bring her back—and things he would do if he couldn't. At one point, his thoughts had gone to a dark place they hadn't been since just after the Time War. The thing that scared him to no end about that situation, however, had been to once again be reminded of how dependant his happiness had become on her well-being.

How was he going to cope when he really lost her one day?

The Count still sat on the spot where he had been sitting two days ago (had it really been such a short time ago?). This was the only resemblance that the room bore to the dining hall he'd been in then, though.

This dining hall was lavishly garlanded with rich colours; materials of deep reds, blues and greens adorned every drapable inch of the room. The deep brown dining table was covered with an equally luxurious piece of cloth in a shade of blue that almost seemed black.

But the sight that really sent a jolt of anger through the Doctor were the twenty-odd girls, all pale and sickly-looking, lined up in groups of five against the walls. Each girl bore a tray with some succulent delicacy gleaming in the torchlight atop it.

"When you said that you were a collector, I didn't realise you meant of serving staff," he said darkly.

"Oh, they are merely serving that purpose tonight, Doctor," the Count replied nonchalantly, "I realised that you would most likely insist on their presence, and so I am saving us the argument that would inevitably follow. Won't you take a seat? Your standing is leaving me an unjust host."

"Well, we wouldn't want that," the Doctor remarked sarcastically. He took his seat at the opposite end of the table, also known as the furthest possible point away from the vampire.

The moment his chair had been pushed in, two girls moved forward and placed plates on the table in front of both men. The plates each contained three peculiar spherical shapes soaked in some kind of sauce. Rather discourteously, the Doctor picked one of the balls up, holding it between his forefinger and his thumb. Even more discourteously, he proceeded to bring the piece of food to his face, promptly giving it a lick.

"Ah!" he exclaimed in delight, "_Chiftele marinate!_ Pickled meatballs! Standard Romanian delicacy, lovely!" he dropped the meatball back into his plate, wiping a hand on his coat, "Tastes disgusting, but to gather all the ingredients necessary in nineteenth-century Transylvania—quite a feat!"

The Count gave a small smirk, leaning forward and steeping his fingers in front of him. "I see now why you travel with company," he quipped.

"Oh," the Doctor gave a grin, for once genuine in Dracula's presence, "If my ears don't deceive me, I think that may have been a joke. Reckon I might be a bad influence."

The Count grinned, as well. "Quite," he agreed.

Then his joking air disappeared.

"All preamble aside, however," he leaned back in his seat again, sizing up the Doctor, "I feel that I should inform you, Doctor, that I am fully aware that Rose Tyler is still alive and well. Quite frankly, I am slightly disappointed that you would believe you could deceive me with information such as this in the first place."

The smile slipped from the Doctor's face instantly. "What makes you believe she's still alive?"

Dracula neatly dodged the question. "You really are of the opinion that you are two steps ahead of everyone else," he said quietly, "Tell me, Doctor, what is it like living life with the belief that one is invincible?"

"I never said that."

"Oh, but you do believe it, do you not?" the vampire continued prodding, "You go through life, ever the victor, and every triumph brings you one step closer to believing those who call you their god. When all else deteriorates, turns to dust before you, you remain. Ever the constant. No wonder you try to control the actions of all those around you."

The Doctor slammed a hand down on the table, the loud _clack!_ reverberating through the room and causing the sickly girls standing against the walls to start. "And how exactly is this relevant, hmm?" he asked angrily, "Why is any of _this_," he gestured wildly around the room, "necessary for us to discuss the terms of these girls' release? _What kind of game are you playing, Dracula?!_"

The Count wasn't fazed at all by the shouting. "Oh, games, as you put it, are above me, Doctor," he said softly, "But, like you, I usually get the things I want. You see, Time Lord, according to humanity who have labelled me as a demon, I am damned. In accordance to this, I gather that it is therefore my right to lie, cheat, steal and thereby collect the things that I covet," he smiled, "And yet, arrogant as I am, I believe that time has given you an arrogance that far precedes mine. Perhaps my redemption lies in yours."

The Doctor frowned, shaking his head furiously. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he waved a hand at the two girls who had served the starters, telling them to clear away the uneaten food, "I have decided to give you an ultimatum."

The Time Lord cocked an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"You give me Rose Tyler."

He scoffed at this. "Not going to happen."

"Or neither of us gets her."

The Doctor stood up from his seat so quickly that the table was almost sent flying. "Was that a threat?" he inquired, voice low and dangerous.

"I am sure you know that I do not make threats," the vampire answered, also getting up and moving closer, "I am not you, Doctor. I am not weighed down by the opinions of my peers. When I make a promise, I make good on that promise." As he spoke, he lifted his hands as though in a wide gesture of welcome. The instance his arms were at shoulder-level, all twenty girls, as well as Ana who still stood by the entrance of the room, clutched at their heads and released high-pitched wails.

"What are you doing?!" the Doctor shouted.

"Respecting your claims," Dracula told him as the screams died down. He gestured to the girls, now all sagging against the walls and weakly panting, "I have removed all traces of suggestion from their minds. They are free to leave, should they still want to."

"Why should I believe that?"

The Count nodded seriously. "Why should you indeed. Simply because of this: I have no need for them anymore. They have served their purpose, and I should think that killing them all would be rather barbaric. To be honest, I have grown fond of them in their time here."

He was still confused. "And what purpose is that, then?"

Again, the pearly white teeth appeared. "Is telepathy not fascinating? As a telepathic being yourself, you must have stopped and appreciated the medium's many benefits. Share a link with a being strong enough, and you can accomplish much—confer in complete privacy, convey emotional states of being— communicate over great expanses in space and time."

As realisation dawned, the Doctor's eyes popped wide.

"Rose," he breathed.

He rushed out of the dining hall, out of the castle, without another word. Short before long, he found himself in the console room, breathing hard from exertion but otherwise not caring. He punched in the Powell Estate coordinates, Artron Energy be damned. The TARDIS must have been on the same page as him, because for once she gave no protest as she blew through the Time Vortex.

His ship had barely landed and the Doctor was out the door, up the steps, banging on the door of Jackie's flat—all the while, he kept on thinking about what might have happened as he'd left her alone, that horrible image of Rose's cold, lifeless body lying on a morgue table below him playing again and again in his mind. He'd left her alone again, and she'd been hurt, because that was just how things worked out for him.

He kept on banging on the door, panic making him contemplate whether Jackie would strangle him or not if he kicked the door down. Luckily before this decision was made, the woman of the hour herself ripped the door open, clearly livid.

"What the hell—" Jackie shouted, taking in his dishevelled appearance.

"Where's Rose?!" he said, grabbing her by the shoulders before she could even get out a complete sentence.

"Let—go of me, you big idiot!" she pulled back, slapping him repeatedly with a rolled-up magazine that had suddenly appeared in her hand.

"Ow!" he cried as she continued hitting him, "Alright. ALRIGHT! I'm sorry!"

Jackie stopped hitting him as she, too, calmed down, instead fixing him with her standard Jackie-like scowl and folded arms. "What do you mean 'where's Rose?'? She's gone out with her mates just like any twenty-year-old ought to on a Saturday evening."

The Doctor sighed, and Jackie could see that he still wasn't happy. Much as she would never admit it, she harboured some reserves of sympathy for the alien. She gave him another once-over before joining in on the sigh. "Come on in, then," she told him finally, "You can wait inside until she gets back. I'll boil us a cup of tea while we wait."

The Doctor gave a relenting nod and settled himself down on the couch inside, reaching for the remote control and turning on the telly just for something to look at. Much to his dismay, he'd turned the television on right at the beginning of _EastEnders, _which of course Jackie's bat-ears immediately caught wind of.

"Oh! Time for _EastEnders_ already?" she exclaimed, rushing over to sit beside him and handing him a cup of tea.

"Do we really have to watch this?" the Doctor whinged.

"Hush up, you," Jackie shushed him with another slap, which he dodged just a moment too late.

For a few minutes, the Doctor was silent. Whether the reason for this was the fact that the show was actually captivating some of his attention, that he was scared of another slap from Jackie, or maybe a bit of both no one knew, but sooner rather than later the Doctor was talking again.

"So, Jane and Ian are…?"

"Well, they just spent the night together last episode," Jackie explained, never taking her eyes off the screen, "And Jane wants to keep the relationship a secret, 'cause it's private and that—but Ian, prat that he is, just went and spilled the beans to Alfie. And this on top of poor Alfie and Kat trying to secure themselves a council house! Ian should know better, he should."

He looked at her incredulously for a second. "You know they're not real people, don't you?"

"Oh, don't pretend to be all high and mighty! I've heard you go on about bloody _Star Wars_ characters with all the seriousness you could muster!"

"That's different!"

"And how's that, then?"

"They're _Jedi_!"

He would never say it, but the Doctor actually found the experience of watching daytime soap-opera with Jackie Tyler quite enjoyable, if only for her commentary on the show ("Well it's about bloody _time_ that you told them about the baby, Linda!"). By the time the credits were rolling on the episode and his cup of tea was efficiently drained, he'd almost forgotten to be on edge.

Almost.

The sound of the door to the flat opening caught both of their attentions. "Mum, I'm home!" Rose's voice called from the small entranceway.

The Doctor felt relief and joy spread through him as he heard her. He hadn't even realised how much he'd actually missed her until he heard the sound of her voice again. In the few seconds it took for her to round the corner, the Doctor came to the decision that he would convince her to come away with him again at any cost.

She came into view and smiled at her mother pleasantly as she shucked her coat. She was wearing a revealing, red sequined top with black jeans and high-heeled boots that had the Doctor staring. It was only after she'd taken off the coat when she noticed the Doctor's presence. Spotting him, her smile faltered slightly but didn't disappear completely. That was a good sign.

"How was your night?" Jackie asked her, trying to break the awkward silence.

"Fun," Rose grinned, "Although everyone kept complaining that they hadn't seen me in ages. Not that I know how to explain the reason for _that_ to them."

She glanced at the Doctor again, giving him a polite smile (an unfamiliar gesture which he frowned at) before turning back to her mum.

"So who's this, then?" Rose asked her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: Okay, it's all happening up in here! Here's two chapters for you today. Tomorrow you'll be getting two more. Hopefully (fingers crossed!), everything will be in place for **_**Further than Before **_**to start circulating next Saturday. Ooh, so exciting!**

**My semester is starting up again on Monday, so things are a bit crazy at the moment, but I'll try, really, **_**really**_** try, to keep to date with posting as far as is possible.**

**Thanks for everyone's continued support. Love ya! :) **

…

_Fourteen days ago…_

Rose was still walking away when she heard the TARDIS door close. Only then did she chance a look over her shoulder again; watching in silence as the wonderful ship and the man inside dematerialised from her life.

It was also only then that she allowed the pain to come. She'd done a good job of hiding it from him as well she could, and now the sheer force of it threatened to overpower her. She stood for a few moments, she couldn't be bothered about how long they were, just staring into the space he'd last been in. Just rocking back and forth on her heels with the ebb and flow of the pain waves rushing over her.

Then a particularly strong wave came, bowling her over. The wave was accompanied by a sob as she crumpled in on herself—in and in and in—until she settled on the cold cement. She wrapped her arms around her legs, softly allowing the sobs to wrack her body while a harder part of her looked on in distaste.

This was pathetic, that part of her kept saying. She was being pathetic. He'd left her, alright, but it was nothing she hadn't been through before. At least this time she'd been kicked out on her arse with her savings still intact. At least she wasn't crawling back to her mum's after being estranged from her for months. Well. Certainly not _completely _estranged.

But then the dominant part of her shouted out in protest. This wasn't Jimmy all over again. It wasn't the same at all. Because she'd believed herself to love Jimmy Stone, but she hadn't. Not really. Loving the Doctor had taught her that.

Once again, it didn't matter how long she stayed like that. She only recognised that time had passed at all when she heard a pair of footsteps approaching her. Stop, they went. Then they were moving faster, accelerating. She felt soft hands and looked into her mother's eyes, wide and panicked, searching hers.

The eyes softened. "Where is he?" she asked Rose.

"Gone," she answered, realising that her sobs had diminished somewhat. Now her voice just sounded small. "He's left me."

Jackie didn't say anything to that, for which Rose was grateful. She was reminded of how much she loved her mum as Jackie quietly helped her stand and, putting a supporting arm around her shoulders, led her home.

…

_Thirteen days ago…_

"I'll have him, I will!" Jackie raged, putting more aggression into steeping their tea than was entirely necessary, "The nerve of him, just leaving you here like that! And infected, too. I thought he cared about you."

Rose sighed, accepting the mug of tea when her mum finally offered it. She took a good swig, twice as effective as Dutch courage, before answering. "He does, Mum," she told her, "That was part of the problem."

After falling asleep with some difficulty the previous evening, Rose had gotten in a proper amount of rest to be at least somewhat reasonable come round about noon when she'd woken up again. She'd realised that sleep deprivation had played a large, though not complete, role in her emotional breakdown the previous night. She couldn't even remember when last she'd had a naturally induced, non-injury-related rest. One tended to forget about things like that when one ran with the Doctor.

Not that she needed to worry about that anymore.

A bout of pain rolled through her at the stray thought and she found herself, despite her newfound reasonability, resenting the Doctor just a little. Not for taking her along with him. Never for that. But certainly for leaving her behind, and strangely for caring about her in the first place.

Then she quickly reminded herself that it wouldn't even have made a difference if he'd been completely indifferent towards her. She would still have grown to care for him as deeply as she did. Still have never left him.

Although…

Although—hadn't she been the one who'd walked out on _him _in the end?

The conversation they'd had just prior to her leaving ran through her head and the oddest sensation, like a light tugging at the back of her mind, made itself known.

"Are the lights still too bright for you, Sweetheart?" her mum asked her, misinterpreting Rose's frown of concentration.

"No, it's fine," Rose said, waving a vague hand towards the drawn kitchen blinds, "I was just—"

She stared blankly ahead of her for a moment.

"Just—what, Rose?"

She'd just been thinking about someone. Who had it been, again? Jack? Mickey? No, she mentally amended, it had been the Doctor. Of course it had been. She was always thinking about him. Silly Rose.

_You should stop._

Huh, she thought. There was that same strange voice of reason in her mind again. Probably nothing, though.

She looked up at her mother's confused expression and smiled at her. "Must've gotten away from me," she shrugged and Jackie's face relaxed. "Now, what do you say we go watch the latest episode of _EastEnders_?"

…

_Ten days ago…_

She looked at the cell phone as though it were a dangerous animal while it rang away. She'd have recognised the number instantly even if it hadn't shown the caller id.

Why was he calling her? Why did he continue calling her even when she didn't pick up? Three days now, and he'd called at least six times. She had half a mind to pick up the phone just to tell him that he should stop harassing her.

It was a dark stain on an otherwise pleasant day for her. She'd been able to step out and bask in the sunlight fully today. No burning of her person had ensued. After that, she'd called up her mates Shareen and Keisha and invited them out for some chips and shopping.

Talking to the two of them, she'd realised just how in need of normalcy she was. She couldn't even remember when the last time had been that the Doctor had taken her—or rather, dropped her off—somewhere she could get in a good shop. Not that she was really the type to have an incessant need for that sort of thing, but still. Sometimes something as mundane as going to a clothing store was nice, too.

She walked into her favourite chip shop, quickly seeing her two waving friends. She smiled at them pleasantly and sat down in the seat that they'd saved for her.

"Looks a bit different from the last time I was in here," Rose commented, looking at the new, shiny countertops of the tables and the trendy designs that had been painted on the walls.

"Yeah, they renovated the whole place about a month ago," Keisha replied, "Word is they're going to do the same with the pub on the corner. Seems like our little part of London's moving upmarket."

Rose snorted. "Yeah. That'll be the day."

"Just think, though," Shareen said dreamily, "Maybe they'll tear down the old Estate one day. Give us a proper place to live."

"Maybe they will," Rose agreed, the bitterness of twenty years' worth of injustice towards her lower-class social status becoming evident in her voice, "But I can guarantee you those places they'll build in the Estate's place won't be where _we'll_ live."

Shareen looked up at her. "You're starting to sound like your old self again," she observed.

Rose sighed and some of her gusto dissipated. "Is that a good or a bad thing?" she asked her friend.

"Neither," Shareen shrugged, "Just—different. We've gotten so used to the way you were around him, the ways you've changed since going travelling—I just didn't expect to be seeing _this _Rose again."

Oddly enough, Shareen's words reminded her a lot of the way she'd felt at the time when the Doctor had regenerated. After she'd realised that he was, indeed, himself and not some skinny Slitheen parading around pretending to be him, she'd found it easy to accept the changes in him. It hadn't been as much that any of the changes had been good or bad. Just different. She still loved him either way.

She couldn't even remember his previous body all that clearly anymore, she thought sadly. Not as sharply as she would if she'd seen him the previous day. She could no longer remember the exact shade of blue his eyes had been, how tall he'd been, precisely what the leather of his jacket had smelled like—

But—

She couldn't remember those small details about _this _incarnation of the Doctor, either.

As the realisation struck her, her mind raced in an attempt to contradict the thought. She'd put him out of her mind these past few days, sure. Even reprimanded herself any time her thoughts strayed too far towards him. But that certainly didn't explain why now she couldn't even recall the colour of the same old chucks he always wore, or the sound of his voice when he babbled on at the speed of light.

"Rose, babe?"

Rose gave a start when Keisha put a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah?" she asked, feeling a familiar tug at the back of her mind.

"Your phone's ringing," her friend pointed out.

"Oh, right."

She almost pressed the answering button automatically, but caught sight of the number at the last moment and threw the small contraption down on the table as though it had electrocuted her. Her two friends looked at her as if she'd gone insane while the phone kept on ringing insistently.

"Not going to answer it, then?" Shareen asked her after a moment.

"I just—I can't. Not right now. Maybe not ever."

"But w—" Keisha started asking before she interrupted herself, "Oh, wait. _Oh_. It's him, isn't it?"

Shareen rolled her eyes. "'Course it's him, Keish. Keep up."

Not for the first time, Rose mused that Shareen and the Doctor would likely get on quite well. They had the same brand of rudeness.

The call ran out just like the others had, leaving Rose with the judging, yet also slightly sympathetic, looks of her friends.

"You could've answered," Keisha told her, "He was probably calling to check up on you. Maybe even to make up."

"Yeah, but that's the problem," for the first time in three days, Rose's eyes burned with unshed tears, "'Cause maybe he will say he's sorry. Maybe he will come back for me. But what's to stop him from just doing this all over again the next time something bad happens? It's like I told him, too: he can't keep me in a glass case forever. But he's never going to listen 'cause—'cause he's just too scared to relinquish control. He'd die to keep me safe, but he'd also let me go."

Her friends didn't know everything about her travels with the Doctor—something told her that they weren't quite ready to deal with her involvement with a just shy of a thousand-year-old alien— but they knew enough. Enough for them to offer genuine support. Enough for them to at least try to understand.

Rose loved them for that.

…

_Seven days ago…_

Rose was woken by the sound of her mother shouting at someone that morning. She checked her alarm and groaned when the red digits told her that it was just past 8 am. That most likely meant that Jackie's latest victim was some bloke who'd spent the night.

God, she'd _told_ her mum not to do that anymore.

She covered herself with a dressing gown—with the more dodgy ones you never knew— and headed into the living area where the shouting was originating from.

Surprisingly, no sheepish-looking elder man greeted her when she entered. Instead, she found her mother with her back turned, speaking to someone on the other side of the landline.

Rose, curious as ever, leaned against the opposite wall to her mother and resolved to listen for any indication as to who it might be. It wasn't _technically_ eavesdropping. Jackie had the power to turn around at any time and notice her presence. She just wasn't going to be obnoxious about it, is all.

Rose gave a silent scoff at herself. Listen to her. She sounded just like him.

She frowned then, momentarily distracted. That was odd.

Sounded just like who?

"_Have you gone and gotten her brain damaged?!_" her mother suddenly shrieked, causing Rose to jump.

Curiosity piquing once again, Rose focused in on the conversation. By the sound of the shouting coming from the other side of the line, she deduced that Jackie wasn't just giving someone a telling off. She was having a proper row. Who would step up to the plate long enough to do _that_?

Her question was answered with Jackie's following words.

"Well, you _have _abandoned her," she hissed in reply to something the other person had said, "I reckon you're full of surprises."

Oh. They were talking about abandonment. And about her. That meant that only one other person could be on the other side of the line.

The details she remembered about him had faded even more over the course of the last few days. If she concentrated hard enough, she could just about make out in her mind's eye what his face had looked like, but she didn't remember much more about him than that. In the back of her mind, the tugging sensation had also worsened. When it appeared, times which never correlated with anything she could think of, the sensation was frantic. Almost painful.

Still, what she did remember was the fact that the Doctor's name was inexorably intertwined with a feeling of abandonment. He'd left her, and it had hurt. Why, she couldn't quite remember, but it had. More than a non-physical pain should. She found herself recoiling from the person who'd caused it even though he wasn't really there.

She watched her mother's shoulders sag as she released a sigh. Obviously the Doctor had said something that had gotten through to her. Good for him. "Fine," her mum said, her voice sounding less bombastic and more—pitiful? Did she actually feel _sorry _for this man who had caused them so much pain? How was that even possible?

She watched her mother put the phone back in its rightful place and shake her head sadly. Still Rose didn't say anything. When Jackie turned around and saw Rose quietly surveying her, she started.

"And how long have you been standing there?" her mother asked with her hands on her hips, the indignation not quite manifesting itself on her face properly.

"Long enough," Rose said quietly, still leaning against the wall, "You two on speaking terms now?"

"He wanted to know if you're alright," she told her.

"Well, that's nice," Rose said, her voice carrying underlying hurt, "Wouldn't want him feeling guilty about leaving me behind only to have me burnt alive anyway."

"You know that's not why."

"No, you're right," Rose said, bitterness rising, "I'm probably just collateral."

Jackie quirked an eyebrow at her disbelievingly. "So, that's what you're gonna do now? Feel sorry for yourself? What happened to you being so sure he cared about you that you would still defend him even after he'd left you?"

Rose opened her mouth to respond when a strong tug at the back of her mind caused her to falter and flinch slightly.

_I want you safe because I care…_

Her head shook vigorously to clear it of the thought almost of its own accord. "I grew up," she announced curtly, "I stopped being that stupid, naïve little Rose who would run off with the first bloke that showed interest and started living in the real world."

"Rose," Jackie shook her head, letting loose an incredulous laugh "You've been travelling around space with a thousand-year-old alien for the last few years. In a _time machine_! You've long since stopped living in the _real world_, whatever that even is now."

"In case you haven't noticed," Rose said coldly, "He's left me here. He doesn't _want _me to be a part of his world."

Her mother sized her up for another moment, scrutinising her in the way Rose had come to learn from her. Letting those piercing blue eyes of hers bore into Rose's head.

When she was small, Rose had never been able to lie to that gaze. Jackie would discern her every secret within the minute. Travelling with the Doctor, Rose had become a better liar. Had had to, really. But still her mother's way of seemingly looking straight through her unnerved her.

"He said that you left him," Jackie said quietly, "Not the other way around."

Rose barked out a disbelieving laugh at this. "Well, that's just absolute—" and then her words were interrupted by a sensation in the back of her mind that could only be described as getting hit by a sledgehammer. As the feeling hit, she was overwhelmed—sight, sound and smell—by a flashback of the last moment she'd spent with him.

_Have a good life, Doctor._

She'd left him.

_She'd _left _him. _Oh god, the look on his face. He'd never meant to leave her. He'd only let her go because he'd thought she'd wanted it. She'd only left because she'd thought that he'd wanted her to. Because of the things he'd said…

But his words could have been interpreted completely differently, couldn't they? He'd never said that he was leaving her behind _permanently_. He'd never actually given an indication that he wouldn't come back for her. She'd just been assuming.

And why?

How could she, Rose Tyler, have just given up on him when he'd tried to send her away? She, who'd once braved the Time Vortex and an army of Daleks to get back to him? How _the hell_ had she wound up being the one to break his heart?

Unless…

The truth dawned on her.

Before being wiped away completely.

She opened her eyes slowly. Only a few seconds had passed. Her gaze travelled down to her right hand, the point where her small mobile rested. She stared at it blankly, seeing the caller id.

"The TARDIS is calling me," she said in an oddly deflated, hollow sort of voice.

"You going to answer it?" her mother asked, eyeing her with an indecipherable expression.

For a moment, Rose contemplated picking it up, just for a laugh. Just to see who it was.

Maybe it was Jack, she thought with a grin. She'd not seen Jack in a while. She missed him. In more ways than one, she realised. She had to remember to ask him out for a drink when she saw him again. He was certainly more than her type in the looks department. She couldn't understand why she'd never considered him in the first place.

But then she pressed the end-call button, reasoning that speaking with anyone she knew from that part of her life would lead to the temptation being too great. She'd stopped travelling for a reason. She needed to focus on her _real _life; the one away from the aliens and the adventure and the hand-holding with—Jack, she supposed.

"Tell you what," Rose said cheerily, "How about I go buy some groceries? We're running low on bread and milk as it is."

Jackie kept fixing her with that odd look. "You hate buying groceries," she said warily.

"Need some fresh air," she justified, already heading to her room to change and feeling quite chirpy considering that she was just heading out to the shops. "I'll probably meet up with Shareen and Keish later, so don't wait up."

Jackie didn't answer. She just stared after her daughter worriedly.

…

_Three days ago…_

Rose jerked awake, momentarily distraught.

Where was she?

On the TARDIS? In the Count's castle? Some other foreign place?

She struggled against something holding her feet and arms in place, growing more and more panicked.

Where was she?

She needed to get back. Needed to find someone. But she couldn't remember who it was. Every time she tried to call up the person's face, her own mind seemed to assault her like it was now.

She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move.

_Where was she?!_

Slowly she became aware.

Of course. She was in her mother's flat. In her same old room, safe and sound. She was lying in bed on a pillow that seemed to be drenched through-and-through. She was tangled up in the bed covers so badly that she couldn't even move.

And she was sobbing.

The sobs were painful, rolling so deeply through her body that her entire frame shook. The despair each sob carried was devastating, touching her very core. Yet still, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out who or what she was crying for. She didn't seem to be crying for any one thing in particular.

With this knowledge, Rose slowly but surely worked at getting her breathing under control again. The inhalation-exhalation pattern was soothing, and after a while she drifted back into a restless, nightmare-ridden sleep.

…

_Two hours ago…_

Rose grinned, waving the small slip of paper above her head like a prize while she approached her two friends. "What did I tell you?" she said cheekily, slapping the paper down in front of them proudly, "This top, plus blokes, equals free drinks and phone numbers every time!"

She sat down next to them at the bar, her smile faltering as she took in their facial expressions.

"What is it?" she asked them.

"Look, Rose," Shareen sighed while Keisha took a quick sip of her pretty drink to—no doubt—keep from getting pulled into the argument, "It's great that you're putting yourself out there again, and we're really glad that you're moving on and all, but—don't you think it's all a bit soon?"

Rose looked at her incredulously. "Soon?" she frowned, "It's been two weeks. And it's not as though I was sworn of dating when I was travelling, either."

Shareen exchanged a knowing look with Keisha, who had since put down her drink and was eyeing Rose strangely.

Rose hadn't talked about the Doctor at all for a good week now, and her friends were starting to worry about when she might snap. Even people who'd only glimpsed the two of them together would have known how strongly Rose had felt for the Doctor, yet now it seemed as though she'd forgotten him altogether. Neither Shareen nor Keisha believed it for a second.

"We know it's hard, babe," Keisha told her, putting a comforting hand over Rose's, "Hell, if it's anything like what I went through with Alfie a few years back, I think I may understand what you're feeling better than you think. But don't you think that going out and throwing yourself at people may be something you'll regret in the future?" Keisha's gaze slipped for a moment, "I know I did."

"_Throwing myself at people_?" Rose pulled her hand away from Keisha and looked at her friends disbelievingly. "I wasn't _throwing _myself at anyone! Blimey, you'd think after I was away for two years, the two of you would actually enjoy it when we went clubbing again!"

Shareen huffed frustratedly . "Rose, you know that's not—"

"Save it," she told her friend, at the same time a male hand appeared on Rose's shoulder.

She turned in surprise to find Matt, one of her old clubbing buddies from ages ago. She noted that he'd bulked up considerably since she'd last laid eyes on him. The look suited him quite well.

"Wotcha," he grinned down at her, "It really is you."

She returned the smile, standing up to face him fully and, in doing so, turning her back on Shareen and Keisha's worried stares. "It's really me," she confirmed, "Haven't seen you in a while."

"You look great," he complimented, sweeping an appreciative eye down her torso.

"Not looking so bad yourself," she returned, eyeing him in the same manner.

His smile widened, taking on a suggestive edge to it, and Rose could practically feel the disapproval rolling off her friends at her back.

"So," Matt started, moving in closer to her, "I'm actually here with the old crowd right now. With some obvious exceptions," he cast a dismissive glance over Rose's shoulder, "They'd be dying to see you, too. What d'you say?"

Rose nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds good to me!" she said, already setting off.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm before leaning in to speak into her ear. "And maybe later you and me could—get out of here."

Rose cast a glance over her shoulder at her friends. She just barely caught a glimpse of Shareen mouthing her a decisive "no". Then she smiled back at Matt, if somewhat spitefully. She'd show them what throwing herself at someone _really _looked like.

"Sounds good to me," she told him.


	14. Chapter 14

"What's your name?"

"Rose Tyler."

"Where do you live?"

"The Powell Estate.'

"Who's Jackie Tyler?"

"Really?"

"Just answer, please."

Rose sighed as she leaned against the back of the sofa and eyed the insufferable man across from her. "And what if I don't want to, hmm?" she asked him with narrowed eyes, "What gives you the right to just waltz in here and tell me that there's something wrong with my brain?"

"Rose," her mother admonished next to her.

Rose turned to Jackie, fixing her with a disbelieving expression. "And there you are, defending him! I've never even heard of him, Mum. Don't you think I would have, what with me having travelled time and space for _two years_?" she looked back at the man who claimed to be the Doctor contemptuously, "Maybe he's done something to _your_ brain."

For the briefest of moments, Rose caught a flash of pain crossing over the man's features before he brought his hand up, obscuring it completely. "For the last time," he said as he scrubbed the hand up his face and through his (kind of amazing) hair, "I'm not controlling her mind, Rose. Nor yours. But your mind is being controlled by someone else. Count Dracula. He's doing it to get to me, and I've no idea how to stop it just yet."

She looked at him in awed silence for a moment. Then she turned back to her mother, staring at her imploringly. "Are you hearing this?" she cried incredulously.

"It's not that far-flung," Jackie said quietly, "After everything you've faced over the years, you can't possibly be _that_ surprised that you found Dracula on this go."

"No," Rose shook her head adamantly, "The Dracula bit I remember. I just don't remember _him _having any part in it. Not in _anything _I've done."

"But I did," he insisted, the intensity in his deep-brown eyes causing her to go slightly light-headed, "All those things you remember, those are things _we _did. You and I. Together."

She wasn't going to give in to that, no matter what an ineffable effect he seemed to have on her. For all she knew, that was just one of his alien superpowers. "So tell me this, then," she said, switching gears, "Let's say, hypothetically, you're right and my mind now contains sod-all of my memories, why would Dracula do that to get to _you_? What am I to you?"

At this his eyes softened. "You're my best friend."

His words caused her heart to flutter in a way it hadn't since she was sixteen, but luckily she managed to keep a healthy dose of scepticism up as a front. "Right. So you're saying that the Count went through all this trouble to get to you while you were _right there_ just 'cause we're friends?"

"_Best _friends," he stretched.

"Yeah, _best _friends. Alright," she laughed ruefully, shaking her head and getting up from off the couch, "Sorry if that doesn't inspire me to have much trust in your story."

The Doctor huffed, also getting up. "Well, obviously not _that _much has changed, then," he muttered.

Jackie looked between the two of them bemusedly. "She doesn't even know who you are, and still you manage to have a couples' row," she mused with an eye-roll.

Rose disappeared down the hallway and, moments later, the Doctor and Jackie heard the crack of a bedroom door slamming. The Doctor winced at the sound.

"She'll have to come with me eventually," he said, turning back to Jackie, "The Count was thorough; he put a telepathic lock on her memories so that only he could unlock them. I'll have to take her back to him."

Jackie nodded, for once not mouthing off about the Doctor's putting Rose in this situation in the first place. "Yeah, figured it was going to be something like that. Tell you what— you go, give her some space to wrap her head around it all for a minute and I'll talk her 'round to it."

The Doctor knew, albeit begrudgingly, that Jackie actually had the best course of action in mind.

"Alright," he agreed, turning to head back down to the TARDIS.

"Only—"

He turned back to Jackie slowly. "Only?"

Jackie shifted uncomfortably where she stood, fiddling with the hem of her bright turquoise shirt and not quite meeting his eyes. "Only maybe—you shouldn't."

He frowned. "Shouldn't what?"

She sighed and met his eyes. "Shouldn't take her with you. Just leave her here," she held up a hand when he opened his mouth, "No, shut up. Listen. The thing about Rose that you need to remember, Doctor, is when she says she won't leave you, she really won't. D'you get that? Not ever. Every time that you bring her here, I see it in her eyes. In the way she looks at you. And, frankly, it scares me to death. 'Cause this life that you lead, that you've pulled her into—that's a part of you, too. That's why she loves it just as much as she does you."

Her eyes glistened, "And loving both is going to kill her one day."

The Doctor knew that the lump of guilt that he felt rise in his throat was directly owing to his unsaid admission:

It already had.

Instead, however, he utilised a technical justification. "I'm sorry, Jackie, but I can't just leave her here like this. The Count is cleverer than that. When he erased her memories of me, he didn't take away all the memories including me. He left gaps," the Doctor's fists clenched and he realised that he'd never wanted to deck someone as badly as he did Count bloody Dracula, "Right now it's fine, because Rose is mentally filling in those blank spaces with as much logical thought as is possible, but it won't hold. Her mind's a ticking time bomb. Given time, the gaps will start to erode, take up larger chunks of memory, until eventually—" he trailed off.

Jackie's eyes widened in horror before she composed herself and proceeded to nod solemnly.

"I'll talk her 'round."

…

Talking Rose around took a very long time, apparently. By the time the Doctor heard knocking on the TARDIS door, he knew that it was already light out.

"You could have just come in," he told Rose when he opened the door, "You live here, you know."

"_Lived_. Past tense," she reprised, striding past him and up the ramp. She sat herself down on the jump seat without any further preamble, eyeing him warily. "I'm here for some answers."

He nodded, moving over to lean on the console across from her, being careful to keep his distance (which he hated). "Shoot," he told her.

"Okay," she said, still stony-faced, "First question: Are we shagging?"

The Doctor's eyes glazed over and for a second he didn't quite register what she'd asked him. When he did, however, he found it rather impossible to maintain any sense of eloquence. "W—what?" he sputtered in a slightly higher than normal pitch.

Rose snorted. "I'll take that as a 'no', then."

"Yes. I mean no—I mean—" he steadied himself from the sudden verbal onslaught, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh," she waved a hand airily, "Just wondering. The way my body reacts to yours, the way I constantly want to be in contact with you—oh well," she shrugged, "Must just be an attraction thing, I suppose."

Well now, how did one respond to _that_?

"Um," the Doctor said, answering his own mental question.

"So, we're really just friends, then? We're not together or anything?"

He shook his head slowly, uncertainly, not really knowing whether he was lying or not. He certainly thought of her as more than just a friend; their whole predicament just proved this to be fact once again. But did he really have the right to stake such a claim on her when he kept pulling her close and then pushing her away?

"Alright then," Rose grinned, "That's a relief.'

At which point his full attention was abruptly snapped back to her.

"_What's_ a relief?" he asked suspiciously.

"That we're not together," she continued inadvertently, "'Cause otherwise I may have kind of—sort of— cheated on you." She smiled sheepishly.

"_What?!_"

She raised her eyebrows. "What 'what'?"

The Doctor looked at her incredulously. "With _who_?"

"Bit tetchy for someone who claims not to be my boyfriend, ain't you?"

"Who was it?" he asked, trying and failing miserably to sound less murderous.

"Is it any of your business?"

"_Damned well_ it's my—"

He stopped short when he saw Rose's eyebrows climb even higher and a small, triumphant smile make itself known on her face. "So we _are _together!" she announced, grinning outright.

The Doctor sighed, running a hand through that gorgeous hair of his again. Throwing caution to the wind, he moved to sit down beside her.

"It's—it's more complicated than that."

"_It's more complicated than that_," she repeated in a surprisingly good impersonation of his voice. She shook her head exasperatedly, but didn't press it any more.

After a few minutes which were spent by each person looking straight ahead at their respective spots on the floor, Rose leaned sideways and bumped the Doctor with her shoulder. "His name's Matt," she started, "He'd been trying to chat me up the entire evening through, even though I'd already agreed to go with him at the start as it was. 'Round about ten, he'd had a few, so him and me left the club together. After that—"

She paused, trying not to smile at the fact that the Doctor didn't seem to be breathing.

"I dialled a cab and it took him home."

The Doctor looked up at her in surprise. "So, wait," he said slowly, "You didn't—"

Rose smiled up at him softly. 'Nah," she told him, resting a hand over his, "Just didn't feel right at the time doing it."

He looked down at their hands lying atop each other, a gesture that was so familiar yet seemed so foreign in their current situation. He turned his hand so that his palm was facing upwards and took her hand. Rose allowed their fingers to intertwine. The small remnant of contact made the Doctor feel that much more at ease.

"Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"How did Jackie talk you 'round?"

No answer came, and when he looked up, it was to see Rose smiling down mysteriously at their linked hands.

"I'll tell you some other time," she said without further elaboration.


End file.
